Unlimited Bandanna Works
by weebee
Summary: An Anything Goes Martial Artist must accept any challenge put before him. When that's the Holy Grail War, perhaps Ranma shouldn't have charged in so casually?
1. Chapter 1

Fate/Stay Night.  
-Unlimited Bandanna Works.  
Produced by - Weebee.  
Developed based on the works of Nasu and Rumiko Takahashi, no copyright violation intended.

Since this is a fanfiction, we do not have the funds for a flashy animated route opening. We thank you for your understanding.

Sources for this fic will be the UFOTable adaptations of Fate/Zero and UBW, plus the VN's initial version. Unfortunately, since it takes me some time to read through the VN due to low vision, the Anime will probably take priority a lot. Other secondary data will be used, but given that the Nasuverse is huge, complex, and there are about six different translations for the same concept depending on who was doing what and when, anything outside of the sources above may be ignored or mangled. Any type-lunatics have been warned. This will probably hurt, especially since I'm willingly changing some fairly important parts of how Mana, Od and Magic Circuits work for the purposes of the crossover.

Thank you, and on with the show!

Chapter 1: I ask of you... Wait, what?

1/31..

Constant, careful steps, following the previous line but never overlapping, energy tightly controlled to prevent accidents, the throbbing pain in his leg reminding him what would happen if he failed again. Ranma Saotome stepped through the long practiced motions of the Hiryu Shoten Ha, moving in a spiral towards a center. Although this time there was no opponent chasing him; no one else to cover the other half. He'd been trying to work out how to use the technique by himself, as he'd once seen Cologne do, but hadn't been able to figure it out so far. He hoped that going through the motion on a larger scale might help.

He'd figured out a way to infuse the ground with hot, emotional Chi, and was moving along the pre-prepared lines emanating cold. His previous attempt had, technically, worked. It'd also picked up a tree branch in the winds and tried to tear his leg off with it until his loss of concentration had caused the tornado to collapse. Still, it had worked.

Reaching the center of the spiral, he threw one hand into the air, channeling cold energy through his fist and into the sky. And… nothing happened. He remained stock still, his eyes glancing around the abandoned lot he'd moved to from the forest after his first attempt, but everything remained still. Irritated, and wondering how things had failed so horribly this time, he lowered his arm. Nothing at all had happened!

That was when the ground around him began to crackle with energy, a line of light drawing itself inward from the edge of the spiral. Acting on instinct, he leapt out of the center of the spiral, turning in mid-air to see a pillar of white light burst from the ground and shoot into the sky.

Flipping once in the air, he landed back on his feet, staring at the still rising energy pillar. "How'd I end up with the Perfect Shi Shi Hokodan? I can't even get depressed enough for that." Shielding his eyes, he thought he could just barely make out a human figure in the light. This was confirmed when it died down, revealing a very familiar looking man in a pair of black pants and a dusty yellow shirt.

The man stepped forward, head down. "So. Are you my -"

"Ryoga? What are you doing here?" Ranma cut him off. "Look, right now's not the best time to fight, though I gotta admit diggin' under me and blasting a Shi Shi Hokodan out of the ground was a pretty neat trick. Caught me totally by surprise. Bit too much early warning, though." The martial artist crossed his arms across his chest, and nodded sagely.

The man's head immediately shot up, and his eyes widened. "R… Ranma?"

Ranma blinked, confused by his bewildered rival. "Of course! What? Were you trying to hit someone else?"

It was at this statement that Ryoga brought a hand to his eyes and began laughing. "Of course… of course it would be you," he choked out.

Ranma stepped forward slowly. "Um… P-chan, you all right?"

"And of course, you have no idea what's going on," Ryoga shook his head. "Let me guess, you weren't even trying to summon a servant, right?"

"Summon a servant? Do you think I'm rich enough to hire one?" Ranma asked, though even as he did, he began to notice that something was off about his rival. For one, Ryoga was bigger. Not just taller, but more muscular, and all around older looking than he should be. His face was more weathered, a few new scars visible here and there. His clothing also seemed slightly different, his rope-tied pants replaced with heavier leather, sections almost looking padded, and the tip of the umbrella peaking out from over his shoulder gleaming with a metallic shine. Everything just felt off, and a sensation slowly crawled up his spine that screamed 'wrong.' "P-chan," he stepped back a bit. "What the hell happened to you?"

Ryoga's laughter trailed off, and he shook his head. "It's hard to explain, but something has gone very wrong. I shouldn't have been summoned by you!" The fact that he smashed the ground in frustration after saying this actually reassured Ranma slightly. "You're not even a..." He paused, and then blinked. "You're providing me with Mana. How are you providing me with mana?"

Ranma just shrugged. "I'd answer you if I had any idea what that is."

The lost boy, if that was still the right descriptor, clenched his fists and twitched for a moment before bringing himself back under control. "Mana is a form of magical energy," he started slowly. "It's what servants like me need to keep going, and what our masters provide us. The problem is that only mages can generate it, and last I checked, you weren't a mage."

"Huh," Ranma shrugged again. "Yeah, I'd say that's weird, if I even knew what a servant was, why you say you're one, and why you look ten years older."

"I..." Ryoga was cut off by a chuckle nearby, followed by a cheerful voice.

"Having to explain things to your master, huh? Pretty pitiful if you ask me." Both martial artists turned in the direction of the voice to see a man in a blue bodysuit standing on the sidewalk in front of the vacant lot, holding a red lance in one hand which he was casually resting against the ground.

"Says the foreigner in spandex with a lance at midnight," Ranma shot back after taking in the man's appearance. "Don't think conventions are open this late."

The foreigner in question smirked. "Well, if fighting the masters fails I'm sure you can make them give up through pure insults. Still, I'm afraid that's not an option here."

"Lancer, why are you here?" Ryoga asked, surprising Ranma. "If it was just to attack us, you would've done it by now."

"I'd ask how you knew I was a lancer," the man said, and then tapped his red weapon against the ground. "But I guess it's pretty obvious. As for you… no idea."

"It'd be better to keep it that way, honestly." The bandanna wearing martial artist shrugged.

"Best for you, maybe," Lancer replied, falling into a martial stance. "Unfortunately my master disagrees."

Ryoga sighed, reaching over his shoulder and drawing the heavy red bamboo umbrella from off of his back. The gleam of metal from before turned out to be a silver cap and set of heavy spokes that probably made the thing much less useful in fending off rain but a lot more painful to be hit by. "I kind of expected that, to be honest," he admitted, falling into his own stance.

"Y'know, I like to know why someone's tryin' to kill me before a fight starts," Ranma complained.

"This isn't about you, stay out of it," Ryoga snapped. "I'd suggest you hide, but I doubt you'd listen."

"Fine, if you say so," Ranma said, stepping back and crossing his arms. "Good luck, P-chan. I'll be here if he kicks your ass."

Lancer raised an eyebrow at that, but only allowed it to bother him for a second, kicking off to charge at his opponent. Ryoga met him in place, parrying the first few experimental blows with his umbrella. "Not really a sword, is it? More of a club," he said, conversationally.

Ryoga didn't respond, pushing forward when his opponent's next attack went wide and slamming into Lancer's chest with his shoulder, ignoring the lance that was brought down across his back and punching him in the stomach with his left hand.

The blue clad man staggered back, quickly recovering his breath."And first strike goes to the unknown!" The man smirked, but suddenly switched to a much more serious expression. "It won't happen again."

Lancer once again charged in, red lance moving in quicker, but much more precise patterns. Now Ryoga's blocks were only just in time, a few near-misses leaving shallow gashes on his arms. What really startled Ranma, though, was how much faster Ryoga was. Even though he was losing ground to his current opponent, his speed rivaled Ranma's own, and that was while wielding his umbrella, which was almost definitely heavier than it had been before thanks to its additions.

As if to prove this point, the lost boy shoved himself back from his opponent, reaching up to his forehead and removing several bandannas in a single motion. Seeing the cloth solidify into blades wasn't surprising, but the glowing edge of blue energy that they bore as he threw them caused Ranma to blink a bit. That hadn't been any kind of Chi he'd seen before, though something about it tickled at the back of his head.

"Bandannas? Really?" The blue clad man asked as he spun his spear in front of his body, the projectiles deflecting off into the ground around him. "Got to admit, I have no idea who you are, but you're not really much of a threat." Ranma's teeth clenched at that along with Ryoga's., but he was surprised when the lost boy nodded. "Looks like I caught an Assassin class out of the shadows, I guess."

Ryoga winced, and then firmed his stance, bringing up his umbrella again. "Ranma, you have to run."

"Not gunna happen," Ranma replied. "I wanna know what's goin' on here, and-"

"If you don't run he's going to kill us both!" Ryoga interrupted angrily. "Now get out of here and-"

"Hey now," The blue guy interrupted. "Who said anything about that? My orders were quite clear. Believe me, I know." He tapped the side of his head with one finger. "Killing either of you wasn't an option in this fight."

"Then why..." Ryoga blinked, obviously surprised.

"I'll leave you to figure that out," Blue said, before turning to Ranma. "But seriously, kid. My advice? Order your servant to kill himself and get as far from this city as you can. Both of you are out of your depth."

"Order him to kill himself?" Ranma asked. "What the hell's that supposed ta-" He was interrupted as the blue lance-wielder literally vanished before his eyes. "Okay..." He said, slowly turning to Ryoga. "I know I'm startin' to sound like a broken record here, but..."

Ryoga raised one hand, staring past the younger martial artist for a moment before nodding. "He's gone. Servants can disperse into mana and stay around, so I had to make sure."

"Right." Ranma said, looking at him strangely.

"Look, I can explain everything," the lost boy started, "but it probably shouldn't be here. Summoning me here without wards to suppress the magical energy you released probably means that every mage in the city's got an eye on this place. Do you have a camp set up somewhere?"

"Yeah," Ranma gestured towards the street. "Edge of this section of the city." He'd found a park nearby that he normally would have had no problem camping in, but for some reason even standing in the place made his skin crawl and there had been almost no grass growing there.

"Right, I can tell you some of this while we head there," Ryoga nodded, and then immediately turned, walking towards the back of the lot. Ranma reached out without thinking, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him around.

"At least some stuff hasn't changed," the pigtailed martial artist muttered.

HR.

"So, seven servants, each has a master, you compete against each other to have this grail thing grant you a wish," Ranma summed up, cutting out the history Ryoga had included and getting down to the parts he considered important as the two made their way through the thin tree cover at the outskirts of Fuyuki city. "And you signed up to do fights to the death for some random wish granting thing?"

"They aren't really fights to the death," Ryoga disagreed. "While it's true that a lot of masters view taking out other masters as one of the easier ways to win, all you really have to do is defeat the servants. And we, well, we aren't entirely alive to begin with."

"You look plenty alive to me," Ranma disagreed, punching the taller man in the arm.

"Yeah, well I'm not," he countered. "I'm just a copy of the heroic spirit that the grail made. A familiar, basically. If I die, all that will happen is I'll go back to the throne of heroes, where my original self is."

"Throne of heroes, huh?" Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Didn't really expect you to become some great hero. I mean, it's good that you did... do?" He shrugged that off. "But it's not really where I figured you'd go."

"Surprised me too," Ryoga said, laughing nervously.

Ranma didn't say anything for a few moments, as the two entered a small clearing where his tent and supplies were set up. "I've only got one tent..." he said, uncertainly. "This'd probably have been a lot easier if you still had your pack."

"I don't really need to sleep," Ryoga waved the concern off as Ranma knelt down next to the covered pit he'd previously prepared for a fire and rolled up the leg of his black pants. "How did that happen?" Ryoga asked, taking note of the bandanna tied around the pigtailed martial artist's lower leg, a white compress under it showing small splotches of red.

"Tried training with the Hiryu Shoten Ha out here," Ranma replied, fishing around in his pack for something new. "Unfortunately I forgot to restock my first aid stuff from my last trip so I had to make do."

Ryoga grunted, having had to do similar things many times himself.

"What the..." Ranma asked, as he pulled the compress away. There was no wound under it, instead a bright red, intricately patterned tattoo of curved and jagged lines, drawing into a central point

"Your command spells," Ryoga explained. "Any three orders you give with them, I have to do my best to obey. It's the symbol of your contract as a master."

"Wait, so when that blue guy said I should tell you to kill yourself, he meant with these things?" Ranma asked, looking at the new tatoo on his leg like it was a poisonous snake.

Ryoga nodded, and then sat next to his former rival, his eyes distant and expression deep in thought. "You might want to do that, actually." Seeing Ranma's shock, he continued on, "The Assassin class, the one I'm in, is specialized towards stealth and killing enemy masters. It... isn't the best class for me, even if it's the only one I'm strong enough to be summoned into right now. I want to claim my wish on the grail, but... there's not much chance of us winning this, especially since I know you won't willingly kill other masters."

"You sayin' I should?" Ranma glared. "I ain't going to let someone die just so we can get our curses cured, or whatever."

"That's not what I meant!" Ryoga yelled, glaring at his 'master.' "And I didn't become a servant just to try to cure Jusenkyo. That's kind of pointless once you've died. I just... never mind what my wish is, alright? It's important enough that I want to pursue it, but I'll understand if you don't want to risk your life over it."

"Nah," Ranma shook his head. "Guess I'm in, but... it had to happen right now, huh?" Ryoga looked at him curiously, but he didn't respond. Given the situation, he doubted the lost boy would react too well to the reason Ranma had gone on this training trip to begin with. "I'm gonna head to bed," he said, quickly standing. "You sure you don't need to sleep?"

"I'm fine," Ryoga nodded. "I'll keep an eye out for other servants."

HR.

Lancer stood on a rooftop near the outskirts of Fuyuki city, casually surveying the skyline while trying to ignore the pain from his chest and stomach. It'd go away eventually, but he'd decided not to waste the mana to heal it immediately. He had to admit, that new servant had packed a bigger punch than he'd expected. Letting him get his hands on you in close combat wasn't a good idea.

"Ryoga, huh?" He asked, walking to the edge of the roof. He didn't recognize the name, and the strangest part was how casual the master was in using it, as if he somehow knew the other. Lancer knew this was impossible, there hadn't been a true heroic spirit created for quite a long time, and there certainly wouldn't have been one in the lifespan of a teenaged human, but he wasn't sure how else to explain it.

Then again, he hoped it didn't much matter. It was obvious that the kid was out of his depth, and his servant wasn't powerful enough to protect an unskilled master. With any luck at all, the kid had taken his advice already.

Tilting his head to the side, reacting to a sound only he could hear, he scowled. "Yeah, yeah. I've got it," he said, waving one hand dismissively before leaping off of the roof closer to the center of town.

HR.

"No." Ryoga said, flatly as he knelt across a small cooking fire from Ranma, the pigtailed martial artist tending a boiling pot of stew.

"Huh?" Ranma looked up at him, obviously puzzled. "Why not?"

"Just... I'd rather not," the bandanna wearing man said, shifting uncomfortably. "Secrets of my school, and everything."

"I could just make you," Ranma said, pulling up a spoonful of the soup and taking a sip.

"You could," Ryoga nodded, "but that would be a waste of a command spell."

Ranma dropped the spoon into the pot immediately. "What? No, I didn't mean that thing, I meant... this!" He abruptly lunged forward, bringing a fist around in a textbook, highly telegraphed strike to Ryoga's jaw. To his surprise, the other didn't even bother moving, his head rocking back sharply from the blow but falling back forward again with little evidence of discomfort. "What the..."

"I'm a servant," Ryoga said as Ranma looked down at his fist, puzzled. "I feel the force, sure, but you can't truly hurt me without a fairly large amount of magic. So no, I will not be sparring with you." Ranma only retaliated with a much stronger, Chi assisted punch. Ryoga rose with the blow this time, staggering back, but his face was still unmarred and he gave no sign of pain. "Are you done?"

Ranma reluctantly sat back down and poked at the stew pot irritably for a moment before commenting, "So I interrupt my training trip to do this grail war thing, so you can have a wish, and I get nothin' out of it?"

"Well, the master and servant both get a wish... I think." Ryoga looked uncomfortable, before quickly changing the subject. "Besides, why are you out here on a training trip? There hasn't been a major incident since your fight with Saffron, right?"

"Yeah," Ranma looked down into the pot. "I'm... I just figured it was about time to get a better handle on my Chi, that's all. I mean, we've just been sorta frantically makin' it up as we go along the whole time, but the ways I've seen the ol' ghoul use it," he shrugged. "If I could learn that..."

"Sounds like you," Ryoga nodded. "And the wish?"

"Ryoga," Ranma said seriously, "the last time I came near anything related to wishes, I was almost hitched ta Kuno. I'm fairly sure you're barkin' up the wrong tree here, but... I am sorta interested in what's goin' on, and since I've got no idea how I'd get outta it anyhow, I may as well go along."

"Not the worst reasoning I've ever heard," Ryoga admitted as Ranma pulled the stew off of the fire, starting to pour it into bowls. "Then I guess we start hunting for the other servants today."

HR.

("There's nothing around here,") Ranma almost jumped as the words echoed in his mind. He really hadn't gotten used to that, or the idea that there was an amorphous blob of energy floating around on the roof behind him that was supposed to be Ryoga.

"Well, we've combed a lot of the city, only stayed away from the really obvious stuff," He responded, having not quite gotten the hang of communicating mentally with his new servant. "After that temple nearly fried us... you figure that's where one of 'em is?"

("Probably Caster,") Ryoga responded. ("Constructing a fortress and inviting assault is usually how they work.")

"You sure know a lot about this," Ranma observed, hopping down off of the roof and walking down the dimly lit street, street lights having only flickered on about half an hour ago.

("All servants have natural knowledge of the war,") Ryoga explained. ("Given to us by the grail.")

"'Cuz it wouldn't make any sense to give the masters that, too," Ranma grumbled. "Then again, maybe that's a good thing, given how different you seem."

("Different?") Ryoga asked.

"Yeah, you're a lot more..." Ranma trailed off, not sure how to put it. "Let's just say it's strange you explaining all this stuff to me and bein' so calm about it."

("I think that had less to do with the grail and more to do with-") Ryoga immediately stopped speaking, and then coalesced next to Ranma. "There's a servant nearby."

"Where?" Ranma asked, looking around.

"It's a block or two away, across there," Ryoga gestured to a lightly forested area that separated the long, winding roads of the older part of the city they were in.

"So does he know you're here, too?" Ranma asked, tensing up.

Ryoga grimaced. "Assassin classes have presence concealment, but my skill at it isn't very high. He might know I'm around, but I doubt he knows where I am." Rolling his shoulders, he looked at the shorter martial artist. "So, should we check it out, or get out of here?

"Might as well get a look," Ranma nodded, the two leaping into the trees. A couple of minutes later, they made it to the other side, crouching in the shadow of several large branches. On the road beneath them were a strange pair of a young, white haired girl bundled up against the cold winter air in a purple jacket and scarf and a hulking, bare-chested man who was almost double her height, a massive weapon of some sort held over his shoulder. The man was looking around warily, his nostrils periodically flaring as if he were scenting the air.

"That guy looks like he could bench the Dojo Destroyer," Ranma whispered, mildly nervous.

Ryoga nodded. "From the looks of him and the amount of mana he's throwing off, I'd guess he's Berserker. That might actually be a good thing." Ranma looked at him dubiously, so he explained. "Berserkers are a class that sacrifices a lot of their sanity for a power boost. Usually they're used to make a weaker servant capable of competing with stronger ones, but since they can't reason that well, they're easy to out-think and not too fast. If I strike quickly, I might be able to take him out."

"Not exactly your style, is it?" Ranma asked, but then shrugged. They were supposed to be fighting in this war, and if Ryoga thought he had a chance, it was probably a good idea to find out. "Let's go," He nodded, leaping out of the branches.

"Ranma, wait!" Ryoga yelled, following his master as the pigtailed martial artist hit the ground.

"Hey, big and ugly!" Ranma yelled, gathering a ball of golden energy in one hand. The large man grunted, turning slowly until he caught a glimpse of the ball of energy his opponent was throwing. Then, he snapped into movement so fast it was almost hard to follow, bringing the huge weapon off of his back and smashing through the confidence fueled chi as it flew at him.

The attempted distraction for Ryoga's follow-up attack did work, though. The weapon, revealed to be some huge, irregularly shaped stone axe, was now completely out of position to stop the lost boy's umbrella strike, until the berserker managed to reverse the weapon's momentum with almost no effort and catch the umbrella on it, shoving forward and sending Ryoga flying. The martial artist easily landed several feet away, but didn't look too pleased.

"Attacking before the official start?" The girl asked, not even seeming bothered by the sudden burst of violence in front of her. "It doesn't matter. Berserker?" Her servant immediately followed her command, charging forward at Ryoga, who brought up his umbrella to block. This proved a spectacularly bad idea, the stone blade smashing the reinforced bamboo aside and snapping several of the tines that surrounded it, Ryoga only avoiding being torn in half by the strength of his arms. He was, however, tossed backwards into the forest beyond the street, the sound of splintering and cracking wood marking his passage.

Ranma only barely had the time to take this in before the huge servant was on him, his speed pushed to its absolute limits to get clear of the huge stone blade. 'not as fast?' he thought, rolling under one massive horizontal strike that should have left his opponent over-extended but somehow didn't. In addition, he was using the weapon with far more skill than someone called a 'Berserker" probably should, more than Ryoga had ever demonstrated when you got him really pissed, at least.

All the while, as her servant smashed concrete to powder all around her, the little white haired girl just stood, smiling behind him. Wait, Ranma had needed to move around quite a bit to avoid the attacks, so how was the girl still... His train of thought was interrupted when a yellow blur streaked in from the side, slamming into him as a thunderous crash was heard nearby.

The berserker bellowed, and Ranma felt several chunks of stone smash into his side as he rolled to a stop, a battered and bruised Ryoga crouching next to him. "Should probably run," Ranma gasped, getting only a mute nod from his servant. The two immediately launched forward towards the side of the demolished road, entering the tree cover.

There was silence behind them for a few seconds, before the sound of snapping tree limbs came, mixed with another, unusual sound. That of a young girl's laughter.

END.

Taiga Dojo 01.

"Well, everyone, how was it? Did you enjoy the chapter? Think it sucked? Please, tell us how you felt about it, Praise me more!"

"Um... how would they be praising you? ...You aren't actually secretly writing this and planning to turn it into the Fuji-Nee route, are you?"

"Of... of course not! I mean praise me when I show up for how wonderful I'll be, of course! You don't have to do that now, just review."

"Hey! Put me down!"

"You wouldn't want to disappoint Metafictional Moeblob number 1, would you? Look into those sparkling eyes."

"...Using me like this is both unethical and humiliating."

"Ahahahaha... right. Well, um, see you... I'd like to say soon, but I've seen this guy's update schedule, so See you sometime! Until then, have this poorly balanced F/GO card!"

Fate/Grand Order.

Ryoga Hibiki.  
2-Star Assassin.  
Max ATK 6500.  
Max HP 11000.  
Cards, AQQBB.  
Active Skills.  
Eye of the Mind True, C.  
Perfect Defense, C.  
Battle Continuation, C+.  
Passive Skills.  
The Lost One C+. Acts like presence concealment of a similar letter grade, plus 5% dodge on all attacks.  
Innocent Monster E. Demerit, attacks from caster class servants do 10% extra damage, and debuff resistance is decreased by 10%  
Mad Enhancement E.  
Noble Phantasm, (Quick.) Breaking Point, discernment of absolute vulnerability.  
Anti-Army.  
Rank B.  
Hits all enemies for medium damage, (250%-450%) and decreases attack and defense. Increases with NP charge.


	2. Chapter 2, Testing the Waters

Well, the chapter's a little short, and mostly setup, but it's here. I spent a lot of time trying to hash out the timeline, and then I got distracted by shiny. If any of you are interested, a fan translation of SD Gundam G Generation Overworld dropped at the start of this year. It's fun, if easy, and I now have all of Wing outfitted.

Anyhow, without further rambling, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 2, Testing the Waters.

02/01.

Shivering, a pale, red haired figure carefully leaned against a tree, slumping down against it and letting her eyes cast around the clearing she found herself in. Of course, vision wasn't really needed. She'd know if the damned thing was still chasing her, if not from the sounds of straight-line deforestation then from the howls that seemed to resonate deep in her own chest, or the damned giggling.

She raised one hand, inspecting it, and frowned. The fingertips were tinged a bit blue. It made sense, she couldn't stop shaking and she'd ended up running straight through a river in the middle of winter, but it was still irritating. Before she'd gotten the curse she would've been able to shrug it off, but her smaller female body didn't handle the temperature as well. Still, all she had to do was get back to her camp, a warm fire and her tent in that order to fix the problem. Well, one problem at least. She still had no idea where the hell Ryoga was. She'd even tried her best to 'think' at him or however that telepathic bond thing was supposed to work but there'd been no response.

It was entirely possible that the giant had caught him, and if so, well, she hoped that he'd been telling the truth about Servants not really being alive. That was unlikely, though, they'd both been charging head-first through dark woods at night, and she couldn't think of a better recipe for a Hibiki to get lost.

That brought up a few problems in itself, though. If he were lost, then she had no idea when he'd show back up. It could be as little time as a few hours, or as much as three weeks. How long did this war last, anyways? Shaking off thoughts of things she couldn't do anything about as she started back for the city, she tried to think of things she could handle, as long as the guy who could actually hurt Servants showed up before the war ended.

That Berserker, an apt name if she'd ever heard one, he simply had more physical strength and speed than she thought possible. She was drawing a complete blank on how to face him, save perhaps luring him into a Hiryu Shoten Ha. He did produce enough heat for it, standing near him almost made you forget it was winter, and he had almost no form of tactical skill. The problem was that she could only barely stay ahead of him, and given how Ryoga had reacted to a full force punch to the jaw, she wasn't sure the technique would even work properly.

The blue guy, though, her eyes narrowed. She was fairly sure she knew how to deal with him. Tactics and thoughts flitted through her mind as she continued the long trip back to her camp, trying to ignore the cold.

HR.

He walked, road passing beneath his feet without really being noticed. Scenery changed, the time of day changed, and he walked. Behind him, a golden light cast on the road ahead, no matter the time of day, starkly outlining his shadow before him. Sometimes he'd try to turn to that golden light, but each time he would stop. About half way around, he'd catch sight of it. A jagged line of red that seemed etched into the sky, and he'd turn back. It was on either side of him, and he couldn't turn past it, so he walked.

HR.

"...What was that?" Ranma asked himself, looking up into the roof of his tent. He knew dreams didn't have to make sense, he'd had some strange ones before, but that one had seemed so clear. Shaking his head, he sat up, crawling out of the tent and blinking in the late morning light.

Evidently he'd slept in, and he was sure his old man would be barking at him about how poor an excuse for a martial artist he was, but he didn't really care.

"Took you long enough." He blinked at the figure who was standing, leaning against a tree nearby.

"Huh," The pigtailed martial artist rubbed his eyes. "You got back fast."

"The mana link I've got with you lets me find you fairly easily," Ryoga explained, and then gestured to a log near the tent where some food was set out.

Ranma didn't ask any questions, exiting the tent and setting on the meal like a starved man. When he was done, he looked up. "So, they're usually not that fast, huh?"

Ryoga winced and scratched at his bandanna. "Apparently someone chose to use the Berserker template… differently. They must've summoned a hero who was already powerful into it, but I don't know how. The mana requirement would kill most people."

"Yeah, well, how they got it isn't really important, if we've gotta take that thing out, winning this grail thing ain't going to be easy," Ranma mumbled. "We've already gotta do some training to deal with the blue guy."

Ryoga crossed his arms and glared at his master. "I told you before, I'm not sparring with-" He was cut off as Ranma raised his hand. He watched a bit apprehensively as the younger boy stood, brushing his hands off on his black pants and walking over to the side of his tent, retrieving a long, thick stick that had been leaning against it.

Tossing it up and catching it in both hands, the pigtailed martial artist ran through several quick forms with it. "You don't have to show off your style or anything else. I'm gunna try and stab you with this, and you're gunna stop me. No breaking it, no fighting back."

Ryoga raised an eyebrow. "And what's that going to do?"

"You've never fought against one of these before, right?" Ranma asked. "Your form wasn't that great for it, like you were making it up as you went along. And believe me, you suck at makin' stuff up."

"Hey, that's-" Ryoga started before Ranma cut him off.

"Prove it." He scowled, reaching over his back for his combat umbrella, but Ranma shook his head. "How much does that weigh?"

"Little less than two tons, why?" The lost one asked.

Ranma's eyes widened a fraction before he managed to get them back under control. "Because you don't need it slowing you down when it doesn't give you that much reach for the speed loss. Now drop it."

The older man shrugged, but complied, the weapon making a noticeable impact as it hit the forest floor. Ranma merely smiled, nodded, and lunged forward.

HR. 02/02.

Ryoga's head shot up and he stood from where he'd been leaning against a tree as a feeling ran across the strange extra senses he'd gained since he became a servant. His eyes flicked quickly around the darkened clearing where Ranma's camp was set, eventually catching on a hint of red moving in the tree line. Slowly, he reached up and peeled several bandannas off of his forehead, holding them in a tightly clenched fist. Could he get to Ranma and wake him up before the fight started? For a moment his mind blanked on the location of the tent from where he was, and he growled irritably deep in his throat. He'd probably have to yell, just in case he turned in the wrong direction, and Ranma,

"Ryoga Hibiki." The voice was deep, confident, and obviously not trying to conceal its location as the blur of red emerged from the trees, revealing a tall, white haired man in a long red coat with a set of light black armor beneath. "The wandering Landslide. The only human non-mage to annoy the clocktower enough to get a squad of Enforcers out for your blood and survive." The man rattled all of this off, not taking his eyes off of Ryoga's.

The lost one knew that this was meant to rattle him, and it was working. Still, he responded as best he could. "And you would be the second magus killer, right?" To his surprise, even with how much less information he had on the other, this got a slight, but visible widening of the eyes and a tensing of the hands as though the red coated man were gripping a pair of blades. "So now we know each other, what do you want?" He continued, pushing his advantage and trying casually to reorient himself so that he could wake Ranma if it got ugly.

The taller man shifted again, thinking over his response. "I could take you out now," he said, casually stating what he saw as a fact. "From what I've heard, though, that might not be a good idea. I'm sure you can guess there are several masters in this war who shouldn't be allowed to get their hands on the holy grail."

Ryoga snorted. "It's a bunch of mages, so yeah."

The Magus Killer actually winced at that. "I can understand why you'd react that way, but it's a bit worse than that. Rider and Lancer's masters shouldn't be allowed to gain the grail at any cost, and Caster herself will stop at nothing for it. I'd warn you that the grail itself in this war isn't worth going after, but I doubt you'd believe me."

Ryoga shrugged. "I've got my own goals. Getting the grail would be nice, but if I can accomplish them without it then I don't care." He smiled crookedly. "Besides, you've got your own reputation, so I'm fairly sure you're not going to let your master do something too evil with it."

The Magus Killer's smile was much less pleasant. "My reputation, hmm?" He then looked away slightly. "So I stay out of your way so long as you stay out of mine," he laid out the deal as he saw it.

Ryoga nodded, and the other turned to leave, disappearing into mist in mere moments.

HR.

His hands moving almost as a blur, Ryoga countered what felt like a dozen spears, all coming from slightly different directions. He moved slightly to the left, raising his right arm and allowing one strike to slide between his arm and torso before clamping down as hard as he could, and hearing the snap of shattering wood.

"Damn it, P-chan," Ranma huffed, wiping sweat from her forehead. "We're runnin' out of small trees."

"I'm not sure we can take this much farther," Ryoga replied. Truth be told, he was fairly impressed with how the training had gone so far, and how fast Ranma could push herself. In the beginning, the spear had found its way past his guard far more than he'd like to admit, but he'd started learning how it struck and moved over time, breaking more than a few as he did. Ranma had slowly stepped up his speed, eventually resorting to the Amaguriken. Earlier in the morning, he'd shifted to female form to get that last little drop of extra speed out.

"Yeah, guess you've got a point," She leaned on the shattered remains of her weapon, gradually slowing her breathing. "It ain't fair that you've got…. What, ten, fifteen years extra trainin' on me right now? Never thought you'd be as fast as I am."

"Yeah, that's… close," the lost one said, looking uncomfortable. "You seem a lot calmer about it than I'd expect, though. Usually when I got stronger than you, you'd get mad, or sulk, or go off and train for a week straight."

"I didn't sulk," the redhead glared irritably. "Besides, it's different." At a raised eyebrow from the other martial artist, she continued. "I wanna be the best martial artist in my generation. I mean, yeah, I wanna be the strongest ever someday, too, but I'm not an idiot. I know the ol' ghoul can beat me right now. The ol' freak could too, if he didn't get distracted by a pair of boobs every five minutes. If it were…" She stopped for a moment, looking for the right word. "If it were the Ryoga who's my age who's as fast and strong as you, I'd have issues, but as it is it just gives me a target." She smirked, straightening and flipping the broken spear to land in a pile of wood next to the fire. "Besides, I'm betting where you're from, I can still kick your ass."

"Yeah," Ryoga said slowly. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Ranma snorted.

"Well, we… haven't fought in a long time," the lost one explained. "Anyways, now that we're done training for the day, should we go into the city and continue hunting?"

"Yeah, sure," Ranma said, "just lemme get changed."

HR.

"Wh… what the hell?" Ranma asked, his face pale as he staggered back from the figure that lay on the ground in the alley. The man was sprawled out, skin pale and the early stages of decomposition already taking hold. His cause of death was evident, a small, jagged gash torn in his throat with a trail of blood leading away from it. "Where are they?" He demanded, jerking his eyes away from the sight before him and trying to keep down his lunch.

Ryoga scowled down at the body before him and shook his head. "They were leaving when I first sensed them," he answered. "They moved pretty fast."

"So… a servant just ripped a hole in this guy's throat and left him?" Ranma asked, angrily.

Ryoga nodded. "Given how little blood is left, I'd guess they used it to drain his mana."

"Wait, so… we're dealing with a vampire here?" Ranma asked incredulously.

"No!" Ryoga snapped, going pale himself now. "At least… I really hope not." At the younger martial artist's questioning look, he shifted uncomfortably. "Servants live on mana, usually provided by our masters, but the Chi a human body produces is a lot like mana, so feeding on humans directly can let a servant gain more power."

"And the master lets 'em away with it?" Ranma asked.

"Given the moral codes of a lot of servants, the master probably has to order it," Ryoga disagreed. "For example, I wouldn't do it without a command seal order."

"...right," Ranma said, glancing down at his leg again, disturbed. He was tempted to ask how someone could do that, but then, with the incentive of a wish for absolutely anything on the line, he guessed a lot of people would probably go pretty far to get it. "Then I guess we know what we're doin' now," he started walking out of the alley. "Don't suppose you got any idea which direction this Servant ran off in?"

HR.

"I can't be sure it was the same servant, but there was definitely one around here," Ryoga reported as he and Ranma made their way down a shadow and fog covered street, the sun having gone down an hour earlier. They'd been chasing momentary signs of other Servants for the past few hours, and were both getting irritated by this point.

The creepy atmosphere, including an ominous fog and a nearby graveyard didn't help, to the point where when several skeletal figures loomed out of the mist, Ranma almost wasn't surprised for a moment. Shaking his head, he looked from the five skeletons before him to Ryoga. "Am I seeing things, or…" he said, uneasily.

"I see them too," the older martial artist responded, readying his umbrella.

"So, are these things gunna be immune to punches, or…" Ranma asked, surveying the nearest creature. At first glance, it looked sort of like a human skeleton, save the fact that there was something seriously wrong with the way its ribs were arranged, and its spinal column terminated in a set of sharp-toothed jaws, without the rest of the skull.

"They're probably just regular familiars," Ryoga answered as he also looked them over. "Resistant to physical damage, but if you put enough force into it they'll go down just fine."

Ranma grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Just what I wanted ta hear." He leapt forward into the group of undead without a second thought, dodging as one attempted to stab him with their blade, snapping one arm out and bringing a hand down across the thing's wrist, causing a very satisfying snap. He noticed only distantly that Ryoga was standing back, watching the fight as he danced between two more attacking creatures, kicking one in the knee and checking the other one off of its feet with his shoulder. More of them loomed out of the shadows as most of his opponents fell, and he looked around for the source but couldn't see much through the fog. For all he knew, the summoner of the skeletons had probably conjured the fog, too, but he didn't have time to think of that.

Leaping up over another swing, he kicked off of one of the bony creatures' shoulders, flipping backwards and landing easily. He was about to charge back in when Ryoga suddenly interrupted. "Stop!" He immediately froze, the frantic note in the yell catching his attention, as a bandanna spun through the space before him. He was about to ask why Ryoga was tossing bandannas at him, when a shimmering silver strand seemed to melt into existence, snapping where the bandanna had cut through it. All around him, he could now see more of the strands, gleaming against the cloudy grey behind them. "What the…"

"You can see them?" Ryoga asked, surprised.

Ranma shrugged, careful to keep his arm from brushing one of the strands nearby. "Well, I can now."

"They're part of a spell," Ryoga answered, carefully using a hardened bandanna to cut away the ones near him. "Not sure what it does, but we probably shouldn't find out."

"Yeah, got-" Ranma was cut off as one of the skeletal figures lunged at him, paying the silver strands no attention as it passed right through them. He winced, clapping both hands down on the sword the thing aimed at his head, yanking it free of its owner's hands before kicking the thing away. There weren't that many of the fake skeletons left, but they were still a threat, even moreso now that he couldn't move around much for fear of the threads. Quickly, his eyes traced the ones around him, looking for intersections and patterns. When he eventually found one, he hurled the bone blade he was holding at the central point as hard as he could.

Many of the threads parted and melted away, leaving his field of movement much clearer and allowing him to dance backwards out of the way of another enemy. He was about to fell it with a strike to the spine when there was a huge flash of light, followed by a loud rumbling explosion from nearby. Everyone, including the familiars, froze for a moment as the bright flash cut through the fog, but Ryoga was the first one to move, sending his umbrella spinning through the air at a shadow that had been silhouetted by it.

There was a female sounding cry from the fog, and the rest of the spiderweb of lines suddenly vanished. Ranma was about to sigh in relief when the skin on his arms prickled, and he rolled sideways, a beam of reddish energy as thick as his torso passing close by and blowing a hole in a stone wall behind him. After this, the familiars faded away into nothing, the street settling suddenly into an unsettling silence.

The pigtailed martial artist continued to look around for any signs of renewed hostility until Ryoga spoke up. "The other servant's gone."

"What the hell was that?" Ranma asked, turning to his companion. "they just show up, sick some skeletons on us and leave?"

Ryoga shook his head. "They were probably trying to eliminate us quickly. It might have been the servant we were chasing, or maybe just one who thought we were easy targets. Either way, I'm pretty sure it was Caster Class. She was using a lot of indirect magic there, and doing it pretty fast without chanting."

Ranma snorted. "Seriously, P-chan, how do you know this stuff? Is this more knowledge you have just because you're a Servant?"

Ryoga looked uncomfortable. "I've... dealt with mages before," he explained.

"And that explains everything," Ranma grumbled. "Any idea what that big explosion was?" The lost martial artist shook his head. "Then I guess we should probably go check it out."

The two didn't bother with the gently curving street, cutting straight through the cemetery, the christian church looming next to it, and making a straight path for the forest beyond. Given they'd already fought skeletons, they doubted anything else would show up. They stopped before they got to the likely location, though, Ryoga kneeling down and looking at the ground.

Ranma quickly followed and noticed what the older man had a moment earlier. "That's… a lot of blood," he noted, cataloging several blotches of the red liquid that covered the ground, a few shreds of discarded clothing nearby. There were no other traces of it nearby, so this had probably been where a wound was treated.

"Servant blood doesn't really stick around," Ryoga said. "This was a person."

"So does our vampire cause explosions?" Ranma asked, though he doubted it. The last time they'd found a body.

"I really wish you wouldn't call it that…" Ryoga muttered.

"Yeah, well, if it bites necks and sucks blood-" Ranma cut himself off as he brushed a tree limb out of his path, and almost fell into a crater. It was about twice as wide as the one he and Ryoga had made during the perfect Shishi Hokodan battle, and just as deep, the tree cover blown back from around the edges as though by a strong wind, and several small fires burning themselves out. "What the hell did this?"

"I have no idea," Ryoga admitted, stepping down into the crater, inspecting the crushed and pulped remnants of forest cover that lined the bottom.

"If this is our vampire, we might have a problem," Ranma commented, glancing around for any other evidence of what had happened. "Especially since someone human definately got involved."

Ryoga nodded. "No one around now, though."

Ranma nodded. "Let's see if we can figure out where anyone went. If we can't, I guess we're heading home for the day and starting again tomorrow." He was irritated, but there wasn't really much else they could do. At the moment they seemed to be running around behind everyone else in this stupid conflict, with no idea what was going on. That was going to have to change, but he didn't know where to start making that happen, and now they had to deal with someone who could make giant explosions, with no idea how quickly or often they could do so. Still, this wasn't the worst situation he'd been in… probably, and Ranma Saotome didn't lose. He reminded himself of that as he climbed back up the crater's side and headed into the trees.

END.

"Look, Mr. Kojiro, I'm sorry but that's just how things have to be. This fic's already got an Assassin, so Caster can't summon you. There's simply no place for you."

"But… I must be in this story. I need to have my duel with Saber."

"Caster can't invoke the ritual to summon you unless there's a space open. There isn't. That's why she moved to try and capture the other Assassin in this chapter. You simply can't exist here."

"But I must! It's absolutely essential that I have this fight! I can win it this time, I know I…."

*Sliding door sound effect.*

"Metafictional Moeblob number 1, why is there an angry Samurai looming over you?"

"I am not looming."

"He's mad he got cut out of the fic. And yes, he's looming."

"And you explained why he can't appear?"

"Yes, but he doesn't seem to want to listen."

"Hmm… I see."

"What are you doin, drawing a practice sword on me? ...and what's that thing on the end?"

"Oh dear…." *Illya's sprite changes to closed eyes, as crashes are heard.*

"And stay out!"

"Did you have to throw the shrine gate on top of him?"

"No, but I didn't want it in here, so…"

"This… isn't…. Over…."

"Ahahaha…. Anyhow, I'm sure that won't amount to anything, so please read, review, and tell us what you think!"

Quick response to anon reviews that mention Ranma's nerfing, and Kuzuki. 1. Humans without magical assistance can't really harm Servants. This is mentioned several times, and Kuzuki is actually an example, not an exception. he only harms Servants due to Caster using her powers to buff his hands with that ability. It's not Ranma's skill that puts him out of his league against Servants, (Though against some of them that is still an issue,) it's that he literally can't harm them at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: First Contact.

02/03.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Ryoga said, tugging on his bandanna and looking as apologetic as he could manage as he made a quick exit from the all-night convenience store he'd found himself in the back freezer of only a moment before.

The clerk gave him a wary eye until he got out of sight, but didn't make any other moves. At least this had gone better than the strip club incident. Clenching his teeth, he looked up to see that he was still in Fuyuki city. In fact, he was right in the middle of its central 'Shinto' district, and the sky to the east was lightening.

He quickly checked the link with his master. The younger martial artist seemed to still be asleep, and he was thankful for his habit of sleeping in whenever his father didn't force him to rise early, but he was also doubtful that would last much longer, especially given the look in Ranma's eye when they'd failed to find any leads in the crater the night before.

The younger martial artist was getting frustrated, and in a way Ryoga couldn't blame him. Unfortunately, Ranma tended to do very stupid things when frustrated, and in a holy grail war, that could get him killed. For a moment, the treacherous thought that letting that happen would at least fix his problem flitted across the back of his mind, but he shoved it away, closing his eyes and walking forward. That wasn't a solution he would accept.

When he heard a woman's gasp, he almost didn't want to open his eyes. He did, however, and then blinked at a tall woman who stood before him in a long, white dress with black accents, a few strands of pale hair poking out from a tightly fitted cap. She blinked back a couple of times, before he broke eye-contact and quickly looked around. He and the woman were standing in a large, stone-walled room lined with wooden bookshelves, a large oak dining table sitting in its center. When the woman cleared her throat gently, he looked back at her. "You must be a guest," She said, firmly, as though telling herself. She then bowed formally. "I am sorry that I didn't get to greet you when you arrived. My name is Leysritt, a servant of miss Einzbern. If you'll wait a moment I can get you some breakfast."

"Um, I…" Ryoga stammered as the woman turned away from him, mumbling something about not being told and leaving the room hurriedly. He considered trying to leave, but decided that if she caught him wandering around her reaction might be much less pleasant. Concentrating, he tried to fade into mana, and was immediately jolted by an almost electric shock. Wards. He was inside a set of wards. He squared his shoulders and was about to make a break for it when another woman, only discernable from Leysritt due to being slightly shorter, entered carrying a tray of food.

She seemed to look over him for a moment, before stepping in and laying the food on the table. "If you would sit down, the mistress will be out in a few minutes," she said formally, pulling a chair out for him. He did so, briefly wondering who 'the mistress' was. She was certainly a mage, or at least someone here was. The name the first woman had spoken, 'Einzbern,' tickled at the back of his brain, but he couldn't quite recall why. Absently, he picked at the food before him, noting the western style eating utensils he'd been given. At least he might have finally gotten out of Fuyuki. That thought was driven out of his mind when he heard a very familiar voice.

"Oh, so what do we have here?" He turned back to the doorway, and his stomach dropped as he saw the young girl who commanded Berserker standing there and looking him over. The massive servant wasn't at her side, and a quick glance around the room didn't spot him, but despite not being able to feel his presence, he was certain that he could be there in half a second.

"S… so, you're Miss Einzbern," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"And you would be Mister Assassin," She said in return. When there was a loud crash behind her, she turned, revealing Leysritt, a dropped tray at her feet and a heavy halberd in her hand.

"Mistress, please move," the maid said, flatly.

"Leysritt, I said he was Assassin, as in the servant class, not AN Assassin," the girl said, slightly irritated. "With Berserker here, I will be fine."

"But-" Leysritt objected, before her mistress raised a hand.

"Please go and get me another helping of breakfast."

"Yes, Mistress," the maid replied, her halberd somehow vanishing before she left.

Ryoga simply watched this for a moment, before he couldn't help but ask. "How does everyone guess that?"

The pale haired girl looked at him oddly for a moment before taking her seat. "You've managed to enter my dining room without setting off any wards, to the point my servants assumed you must have been a guest they didn't know about," she explained. "Besides, I've already met Saber and Archer, and you hardly seem the type to be a Lancer."

That was… more than he'd been expecting. Then again, she was on her home ground, she had every reason to be confident and accommodating, if she wanted to. The only question was, why did she want to? "Well, I didn't really intend to be here," he decided to return with some honesty of his own. "I kinda got lost."

"You got lost?" The incredulity was obvious in her face, and he blushed a bit. Even after so long, it was still a sensitive subject. "I suppose if you'd been intending to sneak in here, you would have come out in my bedroom and tried to kill me while I was sleeping," she admitted after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. "I think I've demonstrated that my Berserker outmatches you in a straight up fight."

Ryoga nodded, and resisted the urge to shiver. Not at the mention of Berserker, but at how matter-of-factly she had just speculated on the best way for him to kill her. A child her age speculating on something like that just felt wrong on a basic level. Then again, it was the kind of thing expected of mages.

"So, what do you think of this war?" He blinked, jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden question, as Leysritt entered the room with a fresh tray of food. The Einzbern girl accepted, casually nibbling at some toast as she waited for his response.

"I… don't understand," he finally said, after a few more moments of silence.

She shrugged. "Your master, the other Servants, anything, really. Unless you would like to talk about something else? We should make conversation over breakfast, right?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Well, um, I…" he floundered. What was he supposed to say? "Well, you're right," he started, hoping to play to her ego. "You and your Berserker are the most threatening so far," at the girl's happy smile, he continued. "We've also run into Caster, and Lancer." She leaned forward, and he took that as encouragement. "I'm not sure what Caster's doing, but she's got a temple on a hill on the outskirts of town heavily fortified. As for Lancer, he pretty much attacked us immediately after I was summoned, but was apparently just testing us."

"Hmm, so someone else who wasn't listening to the rules," She shook her head. "I wonder what that priest's doing?"

"Priest?" Ryoga asked. "Rules?"

"Rules instituted by the Mages Association and the church," she explained, taking a sip of tea before continuing. "I suspected your master didn't know about them, since he attacked Berserker and I the night before the war was technically supposed to begin."

"Oh," Ryoga said, dumbly. If anything, he was kind of glad that whatever group was supposed to enforce them wasn't doing anything. With the church, that usually ended in being stabbed, which was a bit counterproductive to his plans. Of course, getting out of here was a little more important than that, and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to do that.

"Um, look," he started, tentatively. "I should… probably be getting back to my master." Who knew? She was being so accommodating that this might actually work. To his shock, she nodded, and then stood.

"I understand," she said, gesturing with one hand. Abruptly, he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders, and then the sensation of Berserker's presence blasted into his senses. He could suddenly almost see the massive Servant standing behind his master. "Two things before you go, please," she said, as though speaking about the weather. "First, I have to insist that you not go after Saber's master. He is mine to play with."

Ryoga did shiver this time. The expression she wore while saying that was... not normal for anyone, let alone a girl her age. "I... suppose we can do that, as long as he doesn't attack us," he said, slowly.

She nodded. "Oh, he won't, I'm sure of it. As for my second request, what is your name?"

He sighed. He knew what that meant to most Servants, and why she was probably asking. It wouldn't actually tell her anything useful about him, but at the same time, he'd heard stories about what some mages could do with your true name. "Sorry, but I can't tell you that."

She shrugged, and then pointed a finger at him. "That's too bad." His danger sense screamed as he dove out of the way of a massive stone weapon that split his former chair in half, Berserker abruptly appearing and knocking the table aside. The lost one immediately rolled to his feet and dove for the door, only to be met by the maid with the halberd, which she swung at his chest. His umbrella immediately parried the blow, though he was surprised how heavy the impact was, and he stretched out one hand towards the wall near the door.

"Bakusai Tenketsu!" He yelled, a finger driving into the stone, spider-webs of blue light racing out from it before the wall exploded and he dove through the rubble. Berserker bellowed behind him, but abruptly he lost track of him. She must've put the wards back up, which meant that he couldn't just fade into mana and vanish. Racing down a hallway, he saw a likely looking door and reached for it, closing his eyes before he yanked on the handle and dashed through.

"The hell happened to you?" His eyes shot open and he looked around to see that he was standing in the middle of Ranma's campsite, more specifically, right next to the fire pit, where the pigtailed martial artist was looking up at him dubiously.

He let out a breath of relief before coughing from the brick dust that came off of his body at the motion. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Riiight," Ranma said slowly.

HR.

"Yes, definately something stupid," Ryoga mumbled to himself as he stood on the roof of an office building several blocks away from his master, only knowing where Ranma was through their connection. In truth, Ranma's current plan had started with something more complicated than Ryoga had thought him capable of. After a couple of hours of fruitless searching in the morning, he'd stopped by a local newsstand and picked up the newspapers for the last week or so.

Looking through them had revealed an unsettling number of mysterious deaths, gas line problems, and outright murders, worse still due to the fact that the pattern seemed to suggest two people doing it independently. Still, it had been easy enough to figure out where the single target attacks had been centering.

What Ranma had done with that information, however... ("Do I even want to know why you had a full Furinkan girls uniform in your pack?") Ryoga asked.

("It's a long story,") Ranma's responding mental voice, something the lost one had insisted his master figure out before he would even think of allowing this plan, tinged with exasperation.

He supposed it was. Most stories in Nerima tended to be long, complex, and extremely stupid... and they usually ended up with Ranma in a dress at some point.

("Should you be talking to me so much? Won't they pick it up?") She asked, trying to change the subject.

("As long as I stay out of range, they won't pick anything up,") Ryoga returned. ("Now about that uniform...")

("Quiet, I think I hear something,") Ranma interrupted. Ryoga tensed, carefully orienting himself on his master's signal in preparation to start running. It was possible that she'd just wanted to change the subject, but he doubted it as this was the plan. Ranma had planned her route to go straight through the center of disappearances, in cursed form because it was unlikely that anyone had seen her around any Servants. She'd even set Ryoga up on the building top, far enough away that he couldn't be sensed but hopefully with a straight enough line that he could get to her quickly.

It wasn't a terrible idea, so long as Ranma could keep herself alive long enough for the Servant to get there. ("Definitely got something,") she projected, and he immediately leapt off of the building.

HR.

Ranma suppressed a smirk as she landed lightly on the roof in front of her quarry. "Why so fast to run off?" She asked casually, taking the other in, and then blinking.

She had expected many things to come from her current plan, but the person before her wasn't one of them. A dark haired girl of about her own age, wearing a red sweater, black skirt and long black stockings, her hair held up in a set of twin ponytails. She supposed there was no rule against serial murderers, or their masters, being highschool girls, but it still threw her a bit off.

The girl in question lept back, her body tensing slightly, though she didn't fall into a stance. "So, you have some skill," she said haughtily. "Could've fooled me with your mana leaking all over the place."

There was that word again, 'mana.' She'd never really heard it before, but since she'd summoned him Ryoga had mentioned it several times, which probably meant that this girl had something to do with the grail war.

"I don't really care what you think of me," Ranma returned, leaning back slightly on the balls of her feet and clasping her arms behind her back. "I just wanna know if you're the master who's been killing people."

"And if I said no?" the black haired girl raised an eyebrow. "I've been trying to track them down, myself. I don't really like indiscriminate killing on my land. But you'd be a fool to just take my word."

Ranma nodded as the other girl glanced to her side as though listening to something. She had a point. Just walking up and demanding to know wouldn't really work that well, so how- She was interrupted as the girl spoke again.

"It doesn't matter, though. You're a master, and your Servant is coming this way." Next to her, the air shimmered and a tall, white haired man in a bright red overcoat stepped from nothingness. "At least when we've beaten you, you should take comfort in knowing that we plan on hunting down that other master and stopping them."

As if on cue, Ryoga plummeted from the sky, having leapt from the next building over, and landed next to Ranma. The two Servants exchanged unreadable looks and leapt off without a word, leaving the masters once more staring at eachother. "Well, if it's gunna be like that," Ranma said, falling easily into her loose combat stance but otherwise making no moves. After another silent second, her opponent obliged her, pointing an extended index finger at her which sparked with energy, a dark air distortion flying from it.

Ranma casually stepped out of the way before moving forward. As she did, her opponent fell into a more martial stance, something chinese, arms held close to her body, elbows slightly out. A few attacks were thrown and blocked, the martial artist's quick eye cataloguing her opponent's fighting style.

"So," Ranma said as she leapt back out of range. "You have some skill. Could've fooled me with those openings you're leaving all over the place."

The black haired girl's eyes narrowed, and this time she extended her whole hand, the energy gathering in her palm and being released with a low growl. Ranma stepped slightly sideways, gathering a chi projectile in her left hand and throwing it. It impacted her opponent's ball of... whatever it was, the two cancelling out in a flash of light. She nodded slightly, leaping up to a nearby roof and beckoning for her opponent to follow.

"Get back here!" The other girl yelled angrily, lines of blue green energy seeming to outline her legs before she leapt, and more surrounding her arms as she came down with an elbow aimed at Ranma's nose. The martial artist danced back, cleanly dodging the attack and returning with a highly telegraphed kick which her opponent blocked with a forearm. She was surprisingly good. When the pigtailed martial artist had heard of mages, the first assumption was naturally of thin, bookish types in a tower, but this one had at least some grasp of combat. How much of a grasp, she was eager to find out.

HR.

On a nearby roof, two figures stood watching the exchange of blows below, neither making any moves towards each other. "Well, her interest in Saber's master would be useful," the white haired Servant said, his eyes tracking the fight, "But unfortunately she might be the least of our worries right now. Your master came looking for the one who's attacking people, so you know about that, but there's something going on at the high school, too."

Ryoga took his eyes off of the fight and looked over at him sharply. "One of those wide-range attacks?:

"Not… exactly," The other Servant disagreed. "Those have actually been getting less severe, from deaths down to comas, but this one… if my master is right about the composition of the field it has a good chance of killing everyone there."

"...And then there's whatever Lancer's doing…" Ryoga winced as the dark haired mage below them tried to land a flying kick on Ranma, blowing a small crater in a nearby wall. "I doubt the individual attacks are Caster or Berserker, so…"

The white haired man smirked. "Who knows, given the holes, maybe someone's summoned Vlad the Impaler."

Ryoga frowned. "Don't start. My master keeps insisting on calling it a vampire already, he doesn't need your help."

"...he?" the other Servant asked, gesturing down to the battle. "I was meaning to ask you about that. Your master looked like a man when I spoke to you at your camp, but…"

"That's his business," Ryoga said shortly.

"...right," the magus killer replied.

"You know, your master needs some work," Ryoga changed the subject as Ranma danced out of the way of her opponent, obviously taunting the mage as she slowly picked up the pace.

"She's a very talented magus, but she didn't exactly focus as much on physical combat," the white haired man nodded. "Personally I'm just hoping this encounter might stop her from dismissing anything non-magical as a threat." As he said this, the black haired mage stretched out her hand, firing a barrage of small bolts from her fingertips at Ranma, who was seemingly caught in mid-jump.

"Still better than most mages I've seen," Ryoga replied conversationally as the other martial artist pushed off nothing in mid-air to twist around the bolts. The other Servant's eyebrows rose.

"I suspected your master would be like you," he offered. "I heard you were a real pain for the Mages Association… even when you weren't getting lost places it was impossible to get into."

Ryoga scowled darkly.

"I still can't believe you just wandered into a mage's atelier without being noticed." He chuckled. "I guess all those rumors the Mage's Association had about you were right."

"I didn't steal anyone's family secrets," the lost one grumbled.

HR.

"Stand still and die!" The mage bellowed as Ranma moved sideways past a shoulder-check, kicking her in the back.

"Y'know, that reminds me of someone," she said, conversationally. "Careful not to punch any walls up here, doubt they'll give."

"I don't care who it reminds you of," the black haired girl replied, obviously short of breath as the markings around her legs sputtered into being once more, shoving her back at the martial artist with as much force as they could manage.

Ranma shrugged. "Well I do, it's kinda nostalgic." In truth, aside from the short temper, this mage didn't fight much like Akane, especially since she actually had projectile attacks, and while obviously furious, wasn't letting it affect her tactics too much. On the other hand, she was having about as much fun as she had in that first spar, and was about finished analyzing her fighting style.

("How's it going over there, P-chan?") She asked mentally, taking a quick look around to try and spot her Servant.

("Concentrate on your own fight,") Ryoga snapped back, and Ranma turned her head back to see her opponent stretching a hand out once again, a bolt of magic forming there. She immediately responded by stretching out her own hand, but then... Her eyes widened as she saw a flash of blue-green, and the bolt of chi she'd been willing into existence failed to form.

She tried to push herself out of the way, but everything seemed to react in slow motion, the bolt of magical energy slamming into her chest and tearing up the Furinkan uniform. Akane was going to kill her for that, she thought distantly as she fell back, the world rushing back in around her. She rolled out of the way before any more projectiles could be fired, pushing off the ground hard enough to leave a crater. She brushed her opponent's guard aside easily, landing several hard strikes into her chest and stomach before a final one in the back of her neck.

Staggering slightly as she supported the mage's body, she gently lay her on the ground and stepped back as Ryoga and the other Servant materialized in front of her. Neither of them looked all that banged up, and the white haired guy actually nodded to her before picking up his master, turning, and leaping off. "Hey, wait!" She yelled, stepping forward, but Ryoga put a hand on her shoulder.

"He's not the one," the lost one said, certainly.

"How do you know that?" Ranma asked, blinking as the world blurred slightly before her and her head began to ache.

"Why didn't you stop that last shot?" he countered. At her widened eyes, he continued. "I saw you cupping your hand for a chi blast, but..."

"It's nothing," the pigtailed martial artist dismissed. "I wanted to see what that thing'd do."

Ryoga snorted. "Bullshit."

Ranma twitched. That was not the kind of language she'd expect out of Ryoga. "Look, it's nothing, all right? I won."

"And you could've won without taking that hit," Ryoga crossed his arms.

Ranma glared. "Look, just drop it, or you want me to start asking questions?" As Ryoga's eyes widened, she stepped up to him, cursing her female form for being even shorter than she normally was. "Want me to start askin' exactly what you're hiding about what happens to us in the future? I'm not that stupid, I know somethin's going on. It's my problem, and I'll deal with it."

Ryoga gulped, hard. "Yeah... I see your point," he admitted reluctantly.

"Good," Ranma said. "Now let's get back to camp. I'm real tired, for some reason..."

HR.

02/04.

She had only been working with him for a few days, but Rin Tohsaka was really starting to hate it when Archer smirked at her like that. He hadn't said anything when she'd staggered out of bed and down the stairs to see him sitting at her dining table, drinking tea, but the look in his eyes was all she needed.

Instead of instantly calling him on it, she'd settled down to enjoy the drink first. If nothing else, his tea was incredible, and she would enjoy it fully before he drove her insane. Savouring the last drop, she gently placed the cup down on the saucer, and exploded. "What the hell was that?!"

He merely raised an eyebrow.

"That... that girl I fought yesterday!" she clarified angrily. "Was she just playing me, making it look like she was such a novice?" Her Servant just kept on smirking. "You knew about it, too, didn't you?"

Archer shook his head. "Actually, you were correct," he disagreed. "My master's magical senses couldn't possibly be fooled easily. Her other senses, on the other hand..."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She demanded, standing, hands going to hips.

He merely answered with a well-known fact. "There are two types of energy that make up the mana a mage uses for spells. There's the mana of the world itself, and the internal, odic, energy of the mage, correct?" He'd moved his plate out of the way, and had moved his arms so that the elbow of his right lay in the palm of his left, his right fist raised to his chin. For some reason that she couldn't explain, this irritated her.

"Yes, I know this," she ground out, tapping her foot.

"Right," her Servant nodded. "Many mages meditate on their odic energy so that they can use it for small spells without drawing on the world's mana, or use it as a catalyst to begin casting." Before she could interrupt him again, he asked, "what would happen if you cultivated that energy without magic circuits?"

"Without..." She remembered the blast of strange, unfocused and searingly bright power that had intercepted her Gandr spell the night before. "...Without magic circuits, you couldn't use it to cast spells, you'd just... have to project it in raw form, but that's so inefficient, that..."

"People devote entire lifetimes to learning to master it," Archer explained. "Proficient users as young as that girl are extremely rare, but for those without magic, you have to make do. It's also very useful in several ways that magic can't match." At Rin's incredulous look, he continued. "It's the natural energy of the human body, so the world doesn't reject it the way it does processed mana. It isn't corrosive to the body, either. Though you can't do a spell even as simple as projection with it, it can reinforce a human body far beyond the levels magic can manage in safety."

"But she was emitting mana," Rin argued. "Why would someone who could use magic properly do this odic energy stuff?"

Archer shrugged. "No idea."

Rin groaned, slumping back down into her chair. "So... what happened last night after I..."

"After you got knocked out," Archer filled in. "I spoke with her Servant while we fought. Both of us were convinced that the other wasn't responsible for the recent attacks, and when his master incapacitated you I felt it was best to retreat."

"...great..." Rin growled, a fist clenching under the table. She understood why Archer had felt it best to disengage, but now she had yet another thing to worry about, on top of that idiot Emiya, Einzbern's Berserker, and whoever was casting mass mana drain spells on office buildings. Oh, and on top of that, she had... A sinking feeling grew in her stomach, and she slowly looked over at the clock hanging over the fireplace in the dining room. School was starting in ten minutes.

"crap."

END.

Your regularly scheduled comic relief ending notes shall be preempted today, in exchange for a note from the author. And that is, When you feel the urge to write a story in a very heavily interconnected timeline where you need everything to stay mostly as-is until a very specific time and yet also need to introduce your change at the start of the series of events, so that a timeskip is impossible... DON'T!

I'm sorry for how long this took, I really am, and it wasn't ALL due to that, but the Fate timeline is a rabid bear to wrestle with. Fortunately, the time when I have to be so careful is drawing to a close. Does that mean the chapters will come faster?

Hahahahahahaha! Do you know me at all?

Still, I hope you liked this one. Please drop a review and tell me what you thought. Thanks, and happy reading! 


	4. Chapter 4: A Hero's Origin

Chapter 4 - A Hero's Origin.

02/03.

Ranma stumbled slightly, resting one hand on the side of a tree and shaking her head. She hadn't been kidding when she'd told Ryoga that she was getting tired, but hadn't quite expected it to be this bad.

"Are you all right?" the Servant asked from where he'd been following her.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled, staggering into camp. She contemplated building a fire and getting something to eat, but her stomach balked at the idea, so she just stripped off her clothes and crawled into her tent. She didn't even remember her head hitting the pillow.

HR - 02/05.

"Become a Servant, they said. Fight epic battles, they said… I'd rather be sailing." Lancer muttered under his breath, leaning on his spear at the edge of a rooftop, and watching an exercise in futility. Well, there hadn't technically been any 'they,' he didn't really remember how he'd ascended to the throne of heroes, and the saying he was quoting hadn't been invented until two thousand years after his death. The knowledge bestowed on him by the grail had some strange bits in it. He would, however, rather be sailing, preferably with a fishing pole and a box full of bait, than watching what he was currently.

"C'mon, left, left!" He exclaimed, only to see the small figure in the distance slowly turn right once again, walking down the same street he'd walked down six times in the past hour.

When he'd first noticed the Assassin doing it, Lancer had thought that he'd been spotted, but eventually, after watching him circle a park for two and a half hours, he'd decided that the other Servant either had no idea where he was going, or had patience beyond that of any mortal man. At least the previous night he hadn't come out, so the blue-clad man was able to make a quick sweep for activity and go back home, but unfortunately his master had insisted that he keep track of any Servant movements he could without being seen. ("He's still going around in circles,") he reported, hoping that the bastard had been asleep.

("Keep watching.") The reply was as calm, composed and tinged with a slight bit of amusement as usual, and the Servant grimaced.

"C'mon, Left…" he started chanting again as his target approached the next corner. As he did, however, a large purple beam of energy shot into the sky from the top of the mountain behind him.

Lancer certainly did not pump his fist into the air on being given something else to do, but he seriously thought about it. He headed for the source of the light, the temple where Caster had set up, as quickly as he could.

Getting there unnoticed wasn't as easy as it was to monitor the lost Assassin, since there weren't any tall buildings close enough for anyone but Archer to use as vantage points, but with the number of wards in the area he doubted anyone but Caster herself could feel him coming, and given who he was pretty sure she was, she could probably find him anywhere, anyways.

The first thing he noticed on approaching was a swarm of skeletal familiars around the base of the steps. There was a flash of intermittent blue from among them, before he got a look at unmistakable blonde hair. Saber was trying to cut her way through the horde, though it wasn't being made easy for her as the mountain's layline was powering the construct, and the familiars were being converted into energy to create more whenever they broke down. It was the kind of spell that made his head hurt just thinking about.

For a moment, he debated diving down into the fray, but forced himself to continue up the mountain, skirting the outer edge of the barrier.

"Idiot?! You know you're an idiot, and you still call me an idiot?! You idiot!" Lancer stopped, blinking and trying to process that.

"Are you a kid or something? You can't be helped if you're a kid and stupid, at least pick one, you idiot!" The first voice had sounded like a teenager, but the second one sounded much older., even if the dialogue suggested five-year olds.

Leaping up into a tree, Lancer peared over the wall to see Archer dragging Saber's master around the temple's courtyard by the collar while Caster tried to fry them with magic. "What… am I looking at?" He muttered, tilting his head in puzzlement. ("Um, boss, something's going on here, but I have no idea what.")

("That isn't very helpful,") his master returned.

("Yeah, but it's the truth,") Lancer answered, as Saber burst onto the scene. There was some sort of confrontation after that, but they weren't screaming right next to the wall anymore, so he missed most of it, before Saber and Archer retreated, leaving Caster to start fixing her wards.

Lancer quickly made his exit as well. He had to report this to his master, if for no other reason than it meant he wouldn't have to watch Assassin walk around that block again.

HR - 02/06.

Ranma's eyes shot open and he stared up into the top of his tent once again. "The hell was that?" He mumbled, feeling a sense of deja vu as strange images of a technological building that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie and a pink haired girl lingered in his brain. He supposed it was better than the other dreams he'd been having lately, the walking one, or that one with all the blood.

Pulling himself up, he felt all of his joints groan in protest. It felt as though he'd been training non-stop the day before, probably with Cologne smacking him in the head the whole time. Groaning, he managed to crawl to the tent flap and heave it open, his eyes immediately scrunching closed at the light.

"You're awake." Given how late it was, he was surprised that Ryoga sounded more relieved than anything else.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice scratchy, throat somewhat clogged. He felt about as bad as the day after that Shakespeare play incident with all the sake.

"You got hit with an overpowered physical misfortune curse, that's what happened," Ryoga responded, tossing the blouse of the Furinkan uniform Ranma had been wearing when he'd fought that mage in front of him. At first glance, it just looked like there was a hole blasted in it, until he noticed the stain of black and grey rot that emanated from the hole. "Most people would've died."

"Huh…. Guess I really pissed her off," Ranma mumbled, starting to slowly recover. His stomach then growled. "Gotta get some breakfast." Ryoga said nothing as Ranma started his morning routine, merely sitting on a log and glaring at him. After about five minutes of this uncomfortable silence, the pigtailed boy broke it. "So, how long was I out?"

"A little over two days," The lost one growled. "Going to let an attack hit you to see what it'll do again?"

"O… over two days?" Ranma stammered. Given how he'd felt when he woke up, he'd thought that it might have been more than a day, but that was really bad. "Okay, so maybe that wasn't my smartest idea."

HR.

"Would you stop glaring at me?" Ranma grumbled, as he walked down the street, the cloud of mana that was Ryoga behind him. He wasn't sure how he could tell that the incorporial Servant was glaring at him, but he could. Honestly, this reaction was kind of freaking him out. True, the lost boy had stopped issuing many death threats months before, and he might even consider the one he knew a bit of a friend, but the over-protectiveness his Servant had been exhibiting was starting to get so obvious that even he could see it.

The older martial artist had actually gotten fairly angry when Ranma announced that he was going to continue searching for whoever had been killing people after breakfast, trying to convince him to wait an extra day to recover. He'd disagreed, and really, waiting any longer wasn't needed. Though it felt like every muscle in his body had been worked almost to the point of giving, he hadn't found any actual injuries, and getting some food had done a good job of restoring his energy.

Still, he was back at square one, or close to it, with two waisted days. He supposed it was possible that the mage girl was going around killing people, but it really hadn't seemed likely from the way she'd acted when they'd talked and faught. The only other master he knew about was that creepy little girl with the Berserker, and he doubted that thing could cut neat little holes rather than reducing people to bloody puddles.

The lancer was more likely, though the wounds didn't look like they were inflicted by his lance, either. It was… He suddenly stopped dead as a sense of revulsion slowly crawled down his spine. Something was very, very wrong somewhere nearby, though he had no idea what.

("Ryoga, you feel that?") he asked, looking around.

("Feel what?") his servant asked, obviously still angry.

("Look, if you're lying about this to try 'n keep me from going…")

("I honestly can't feel anything strange,") Ryoga answered, immediately.

"Great…" Ranma muttered. "If this is my imagination, there's somethin' seriously wrong with me." He could easily detect the direction the feeling was coming from, his skin still crawled slightly from its passage. Leaping to a rooftop, he began heading for it.

Even going as quickly as he could, it took a few minutes to get close enough to spot a giant reddish dome that seemed to be covering a building. ("I've got something now,") Ryoga reported. ("There are a couple of servants around there, and a lot of mana.")

("That's not all there is,") Ranma replied. The dome seemed to give off a sense of fundamental wrongness as it sat there, every instinct he had screaming that he shouldn't go anywhere near it. ("I dunno what that thing is, but it's.. Really bad.")

When the dome flickered out of existence a moment later, he realized how big an understatement that was. The building it had been surrounding suddenly came into focus, a fairly large high school campus. Several students were scattered around the grounds, unmoving. "What the…" Ranma mumbled, already running towards the grounds. When he got to the first victim, a boy who lay on the school's front lawn, he almost threw up. He was still breathing, but he looked badly emaciated, and somehow… felt… even worse, as though bits of him were simply missing.

"What… what the hell is this?!" Ranma demanded, his voice cracking. He couldn't do anything to help the boy, he wasn't actually wounded in any way, even though he looked as if he were about to die. When he heard a sound nearby, he looked up to see the school's front door opening, a dark haired man in a dark grey suit stepping out of it and carefully stepping over a crumpled figure next to it as he walked down the steps.

His expression was flat as he looked around, only catching on Ranma for a moment. The pigtailed martial artist, on the other hand, studied him intently. Even dismissing the fact that he was walking around while everyone else was collapsed near death, something was strange about him. Standing slowly, he walked towards the man. "Hey, what's happening here?:

("One of the Servants is gone, I can't tell where the other is, be careful,") Ryoga said, before the man spoke.

"There was an accident in the school's chemistry lab. The authorities have been called, but you should probably evacuate."

"That was a joke, right?: Ranma asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "This wasn't a chemistry accident, and the fact you're making up that story and aren't affected tells me you got something to do with it. You the one who cast that spell, or was it your Servant?"

The man's strike was so quick that it blurred even to Ranma's eyes, and he only evaded it by reading the tensing muscles beforehand, three fingers shaped into a blade passing in front of his throat, the other hand coming down to try and jab deeply into his shoulder. Even as he did this and Ranma swayed backwards, the man's expression didn't change. He just stepped forward and launched another attack. "Takin' that as a yes, just so ya' know," the pigtailed martial artist said, swaying out of the way of another blow, this time aimed at his chest.

His first experimental retaliation, fairly light as he didn't know how tough his opponent was, immediately got a precise and vicious response, the man folding almost unnaturally around his return punch to the stomach and landing several nerve strikes along his forearm. He stifled a scream of pain as muscles in his arm began to cramp and twitch. Ranma's retaliation for that attack was a bit more powerful than he intended, a rising kick into the black suited man's midsection, though he managed to fall back quickly enough to bleed off most of the force, only favouring one side slightly.

"What's someone like you doing here?" Ranma gasped out, flexing the muscles in his disabled arm rhythmically to try and settle them down. His opponent didn't respond, but that wasn't surprising at this point. What happened next, however, was.

("One of those Servants is approaching,") Ryoga said. ("From inside the school.")

Ranma's gaze flicked towards the main school building just as two of the front doors swung open, A blonde haired woman in a blue, armor-plated dress walking out, her hands in position to hold a blade he couldn't see. Behind her, the mage he'd fought two nights before walked next to a tall, lanky boy with hair almost as bright red as his female form's.

Unfortunately, Ranma realized a bit too late that he'd let his attention wander a bit too far, only managing to just barely avoid yet another knife-hand strike to the side, the attack cutting through a small fringe of his silk shirt like a knife. The guy' had to be supplementing his hands with Chi or something.

"Kuzuki-Sensei?" A surprised male voice came from the doors.

"Sensei, huh?" Ranma asked, leaping away and leaning back on the balls of his feet, attention split between his opponent and the new arrivals. "My school's kinda nuts, but I thought regular schools didn't hire homicidal assassins." To his surprise, this actually got a reaction out of his opponent, who glanced over to the students, his mouth twitching just slightly to reveal clenched teeth. Ranma snorted. "It's not like I blew your cover given what you just did."

"Are you saying Kuzuki-Sensei did this?" The red haired boy demanded, incredulous.

"If he didn't, he knows who did," Ranma replied, falling into a more obvious combat stance. "And I plan on making him talk."

"Woah, hold on a minute," the boy said, stepping forward. "Seriously, he's just a teacher, you should…"

"Mr. Emiya," the grey suited man said. "This is none of your concern, you and Ms. Tohsaka should probably evacuate the school." The boy had his mouth open to ask another question when the older man moved again.

Ranma was ready for him, though when his first strike almost took the pigtailed boy's head off, he quickly re-evaluated. The guy had somehow changed all of his movements just enough to throw off the counters Ranma had worked out in their previous engagement, while maintaining the same speed and precision. It was a neat trick, and one Ranma would have to work on stealing for himself, but Anything Goes was nothing if not adaptable, and he altered his own evasions and counterstrikes to match.

When the man's pattern switched up again, this time mid-attack, and a sudden kick from the previously hands-only fighter came inches from Ranma's jaw, his eyebrow rose.

If he didn't hate this guy so much, this would almost be impressive. Still, his opponent had made a fatal mistake, thinking that he could switch styles more quickly than someone who had been trained entirely to do that. Ranma retaliated with several punches boosted by the Amaguriken speed technique, stitching his opponent's arms and shoulders with blows… until a blue-green flash suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.

His heart almost stopped. Why the hell was it happening now? Before the fight with the mage, it hadn't happened for more than a week. Was it getting worse? Unfortunately, he didn't have enough time to think that through. Desperately, he pushed himself backwards as hard as he could, but it was nothing compared to how quickly he usually moved. He didn't even see the attack that slammed into his shoulder like a cannonball, a loud crack, stab of agony and spray of blood occuring in nearly the same instant.

As he fell back and everything faded to white, he heard what sounded like Ryoga yelling.

HR. - 02/20.

"Where the hell am I now?!" He bellowed into the sky, feeling at least a little of the stress and irritation of the last few days fade away. Still, they had not been fun days. It was like the entire world had the running theme of 'eat Ryoga.' This was the first time he'd been human in a week, he'd almost been cooked twice, and chased by a pack of wild dogs. On top of that, he'd managed to return home, only to find out that he'd just missed one of his father's visits by about half a day.

Now he wasn't really sure what he was going to do. He'd gotten a few presents for Akane and the others at the Dojo, but they were with his pack, which was probably at the bottom of a river someplace. The only reason he had clothes was because he'd found his house.

"Hey P-chan, what's the matter now?" He whirled to the voice, spotting Ranma leaning against a nearby chain link fence. Well, at least the pigtailed boy hadn't greeted him from on top of his head, this time.

"I've got to deal with you, that makes it about ten times worse," the lost boy growled back, baring his fangs.

Ranma shrugged. "Hey, don't be like that. You said you were lost, right? Want me to take you someplace?"

Ryoga's fists clenched. "Don't patronize me, Saotome."

"Yeah, okay, sorry." Ryoga blinked. Had Ranma just said that?

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What are you playing at?"

"Playing at?" Ranma asked. "Nothing, I just got done with school and don't feel like fightin' you right now, that's all. Seriously, if you want some help gettin' someplace I've got some time."

Ryoga's narrow-eyed stare turned into a full-on glare. "Don't feel like it right now? What, do you have some sort of busy schedule? Do you want me to take a number?"

"Would be nice…" Ranma grumbled under his breath, but unfortunately, loudly enough for Ryoga to hear.

"Ranma Saotome, prepare to die!" the lost boy bellowed, charging. Admittedly, he'd let himself get provoked over something fairly stupid this time, but rearranging Ranma's face, or at least trying to, would do a lot to get rid of some of his frustration over the last few days.

"Seriously, P-chan," the pigtailed martial artist said, dodging to the side. "I really don't wanna fight you right now."

"I don't remember asking!" Ryoga yelled, ripping off one of his bandannas and pitching it at the other martial artist.

"Damn it, Bacon Breath," Ranma snarled back. "Fine!" After that, things went about as usual. A lot of property damage, especially since Ryoga had been practicing a new, wider-ranged Bakusai Tenketsu variant, but he knew that Ranma was still winning by degrees. Strangely, though, the other boy seemed almost distracted, not taunting as much as he usually did and his face locked in a look of concentration.

All this really did was piss Ryoga off, believing that Ranma wasn't paying his full attention to the fight, until he launched a new attack he was working on, using multiple explosions of debris to mask his approach and angle of attack. When he saw that Ranma was totally out of position to get out of the way or even block very well, he smirked to himself, knowing that his new trick had worked. Ranma was going to have to take this next punch, which might just end the fight right there in Ryoga's favour.

The lost boy concentrated as much force as he could into his right fist and let fly. Ranma didn't brace for the incoming attack, however. He barely even moved as Ryoga's fist slammed into his side… and his ribs cracked like dry twigs.

There was a sickening squelching sound, and Ryoga felt something warm and wet spatter against his arm, the body of his oldest rival flying away from the force of the blow and slamming into a nearby wall with a wet thud.

"R-Ranma?" The lost boy asked, in a quiet, shaking voice, though he didn't look at the other boy's body, transfixed with the coating of red covering his hand and lower arm. His breathing started to accelerate, the only sound he could make short, strangled gasps… right up until he started screaming.

HR. 02/06.

A searingly bright bolt of purple light and a loud explosion brought Ranma back to reality as he flew backwards, hitting the ground with a jarring impact that shot bolts of agony through his shoulder. He looked around, disoriented and trying to figure out what was going on, just in time to catch sight of the teacher-assassin charging at him rapidly. Out of instinct he brought up both legs, lashing out with a double kick that caught the dark haired man full in the stomach, picking him up from the force and throwing him back several feet.

When he landed, piched forward and started wretching, a purple-robed figure suddenly appeared next to him, and the two vanished in a flash of light. Ranma collapsed, staring up into the cloudless blue sky and trying to catch his breath. ("...Ryoga, you there?") he called, before sitting up slowly, supressing a hiss of pain.

"I'm here," Ryoga responded verbally, and Ranma turned his head to see his Servant standing in a shallow crater, smoke wafting off of his slightly charred umbrella.

"What happened to you?"

"Caster," the lost one said, shortly. "You all right?"

Ranma looked down at his shoulder and winced. There were several deep gashes there, and from the feel of it one of the bones in his upper-arm was broken. "Sorta."

"So, you were right." Both Master and Servant looked over to the school's entrance, where the black haired mage girl was stepping forward, her red coated Servant having appeared next to her since Ranma had seen them last. "Kuzuki-sensei was working with Caster. That still doesn't answer who you are, and why you're working with that Servant."

Of course, she didn't recognize him. He'd been in cursed form when he'd fought her, after all.

"That's a long story," Ranma replied, "But it ain't one I'm tellin' right now." Hauling himself to his feet, he started towards the school entrance.

"Oh, no you don't!" the black haired mage snapped. "Archer!" Her servant nodded, and then blurred out of existence, re-appearing in front of the school gates. "I want some answers, and I want them now!"

Ranma winced. He was not in good condition for another fight, even if it was against the mage girl. He probably couldn't even keep up a good run with how screwed up his arm was.

"Um, Tohsaka," the red haired boy said, stepping forward. "Look, she's right, we do want to know what's going on with you, but maybe we could trade?" The girl gave him a sharp look, but he ignored it and continued. "Your shoulder looks pretty bad, we've got medical supplies fairly close by, and we'd be willing to give some information in exchange for yours."

"We would?" the girl asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm not certain about this action, Shiro," the blue clad woman who had kept in step with the boy, on constant guard, spoke up.

Ranma looked to Ryoga, the white haired Servant, and then the blue-clad woman who was almost certainly another one.

("We don't really have a choice, do we?")

("Right now I don't think so,") Ryoga replied, having taken stock himself.

"Fine, we'll play along for now," Ranma nodded.

The red haired boy smiled at him and nodded back, his Servant relaxing very slightly. "Then we should probably get out of here. The police should be arriving soon."

END.

Taiga Dojo!

"I'm... a little dizzy..."

"Don't worry, sometimes timeskips do that to you. Our author would like to deeply appologize for having to resort to that one, but I've seen it coming for a while now. Fortunately, things are all locked in and should start speeding up."

"...Or the extra complexity could spell the death of the author's motivation and we could linger here in Limbo."

"Such a downer, Metafict-"

"If you keep calling me that, I am going to sick Berserker on you."

"Uh... sure thing, Illya-chan! Anyhow, to answer one question right now, Ahem... 'What?! How could Ranma beat up Kuzuki that easily when he did serious damage against Saber in their first fight?!"

"Well, for one, Saber is not used to dealing with unarmed opponents who are trained to take advantage of that fact. Couple this with Kuzuki's technique, which capitalizes on unexpected strikes and odd combinations that would even trip up a martial arts master, and her first fight with him was a disaster on her part. Ranma on the other hand is a practitioner of a style which is Kuzuki's... only better in absolutely every way save raw lethality."

"And with that out of the way, thanks for reading. We hope you enjoy the chapter, an don't forget to tell us what you think!"


	5. Chapter 5: Wounds, new and old

...Wow. This chapter has… a lot of exposition. I really hope I've done it well enough that it doesn't suck on toast. Well… at least it's kinda early, right?

Chapter 5 - Wounds, new and old.

"Wait, so… there were four masters at your school?" Ranma asked, as he tugged gently on the temporary sling he'd made out of a few of Ryoga's bandannas.

"Yeah," the red haired boy, who had introduced himself as Shiro Emiya, replied. "That's why I was so surprised when you said Kuzuki-Sensei was responsible for the spell on the school, it was actually Rider and Shinji."

"But Rider got taken out by Kuzuki," Ranma filled in. "...somehow."

"Him or Caster, but Saber didn't sense her, so…" the other boy shrugged.

Ranma glanced back at where said Servant was walking, keeping a suspicious eye on Ryoga, who walked between her and Archer. "Wish I knew how he managed that."

"Caster was probably augmenting his strikes with magic," Archer chipped in. "It wouldn't surprise me if she were controlling him totally."

"That… is something I could see Caster doing," Archer's master, who hadn't given her name, but who Ranma knew as Tohsaka from the assassin teacher's words earlier, finally stopped glaring at either Ranma or Shiro long enough to speak up.

"Don't think so," Ranma shook his head as the group turned at an intersection. "Not sure about this magic you guys throw around, but that guy was definitely trained. Strange style, though, pretty much every strike was supposed to be lethal in one way or another. 'S why I called him a crazy assassin."

"Could he have infiltrated the school just for the war?" Shiro asked.

"No, that couldn't be it," Tohsaka disagreed. "There wasn't much notice before the start of this war. He's been here for longer than that."

"Then what…" Shiro trailed off. "Um, we're here." He gestured at a walled compound that actually looked fairly familiar to Ranma. It had been agreed at the school they couldn't treat the pigtailed boy's wounds in the school infirmary, given that the authorities would arrive quickly. Tohsaka had categorically refused the use of her own house, which left Shiro's. She hadn't liked that either, but had reluctantly agreed.

"Nice place," Ranma commented as the group walked through the front gate, a light tingling sensation seeming to run down his spine. Ryoga and Archer both vanished into mana at the same time, though Saber stayed where she was. "You got a Dojo?"

Shiro Followed the other boy's gaze to the smaller outbuilding that was connected to the house by a covered catwalk. "I didn't really use it for much other than morning exercises before the war, but now…" he gestured back at Saber, and Ranma nodded.

When the four had stepped into the house and exchanged their shoes, the red haired boy turned to Ranma. "You can go and sit in the living room, I'll go get the first aid kit."

Ranma was barely into the main room when he felt a sense of foreboding descend on his shoulders. The slamming door was a second clue as he turned to see that Tohsaka had followed him in, and was glaring holes in him.

Honestly it was a fairly good attempt at a murderous look, but he'd gotten worse. "What?" he asked, casually sitting at the table in the middle of the room, carefully starting to unwrap the bandanas around his shoulder.

He honestly didn't see her poking him in the shoulder coming, almost biting through his tongue strangling a yelp. "Shiro gave you his word that we'd trade information for helping with your wounds, and I'm his ally, so I have to abide by it, that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Ranma kept a wary eye on the girl as she leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, but seeing that she didn't intend to go poking again, he continued examining his wound. "Yeah, kinda figured you weren't onboard with this whole thing," he looked back up to her. "I get this whole holy grail thing is supposed ta be a competition between masters, or whatever, but maybe we should can that 'till we make sure no one else's killin' people?"

The girl tossed her head, trying to look disinterested. "That doesn't much matter to me compared to getting the Grail."

"Ain't what you said before," Ranma disagreed, peeling off the shredded arm of his shirt. "Somethin' about not liking people killed on your land?"

She blinked. "Wait, you… Of course you work with that girl." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she leaned forward until she was eye to eye with the sitting martial artist. "Tell me what you know about her!"

"Tohsaka?" The black haired girl immediately leaned back, turning quickly and taking note of Shiro standing in the doorway holding a red cross marked container. "...started the interrogation already, huh? Maybe we should let him get a bit patched up first?"

The black haired girl backed off, but didn't look at all repentant. "You're way too soft about this, Shiro," she complained.

Ranma shook his head, prodding at his shoulder, and then carefully running a few fingers across the front of his chest under his shirt. The swelling hadn't quite gotten going yet, but when he pressed down in a spot near the shoulder joint, a white hot flash of pain went through his upper chest. "Damn," he grumbled, drawing the two others' attention.

"What is it?" Shiro asked, concerned.

"That last hit got my upper arm and part of my collarbone," Ranma explained.

"Wait, as in broken?" Shiro asked.

"Or a bad crack," Ranma nodded.

"Should you be going to the hospital for that? It has to hurt," Shiro started, but was interrupted by Tohsaka before Ranma could speak.

"Idiot, if he goes there, he'll be easy pickings for Caster. Not to mention all of the other patients it'd put at risk."

"Oh, yeah…." Shiro looked sheepish. "That does make sense."

"It's not that big a deal," Ranma said casually. "Gunna have to strap it just to make sure, though. Hope there aren't any chips..." He grimaced, and then reluctantly asked, "can I get some cold water?"

Shiro set down and opened the box he was holding. "There's disinfectant in the first aid kit."

"Nah, not for that," Ranma shook his head. "I just need it, okay?"

"I will get it." The three looked over as Saber straightened from where she leaned against a wall, and Ranma had to resist the urge to jump. For someone who stuck out as much as she did with her blonde hair and non-japanese features, even after she'd banished that strange blue dress-armor, she was disturbingly good at fading into the background. Had she been there when Tohsaka had… It didn't matter, he supposed.

As the Servant left the room, the black haired girl put her hands to her hips. "I still want answers. Why are you working with that Servant and how do you know that girl?"

"I summoned him," Ranma answered. "Kinda surprised me too, since I wasn't trying."

"You… weren't trying?" Tohsaka asked, incredulously.

"Well, that is how it happened with me," Shiro chipped in.

"Yeah, but you just happened to use your ridiculous luck to land in a summoning circle," the girl snapped. "I doubt that could happen twice.

"No, there was no circle," Ranma shook his head. "He just sorta… showed up while I was training in a vacant lot around here. I mean, there was a serious lightshow, but I didn't cast a spell or anything."

"That… that just doesn't happen!" Tohsaka yelled, angrily. "For best summoning you need a proper circle and a ritual, or at least a catalyst of some kind. You don't just get a Servant handed to you!"

"A… catalyst?" Ranma asked, staring at her blankly as Saber entered the room holding a ceramic cup filled with water.

"You… don't know what a catalyst is…" Tohsaka's shoulders slumped, and she muttered something that Ranma was barely unable to catch.

She raised her head just as Ranma reached out for the cup of water. "Thanks, Saber," he said, and then glared at the liquid for a moment before splashing his face with over half of it.

"What was tha-" she was cut off as the boy in front of her melted into a shorter, red haired girl.

The mage immediately leapt backwards, blue-green lines flaring to life on her arms and legs as she narrowed her eyes. "You!"

"Crap, here we go…" Ranma muttered, leaping up herself and bringing her one working arm up in a defensive stance. "Look, before ya start shooting, I still don't intend to attack unless you do it first."

"You say that after disguising yourself like that!" Tohsaka yelled, angrily.

"It ain't a disguise, it's a curse," Ranma shot back. "I'm a guy, it's just that I need to bind my shoulder, and the stuff that turns me into a girl shows up way more often than the stuff that turns me back."

"A curse?" The girl's limbs stopped glowing, though she still looked suspicious. "Well, it isn't an illusion, I would've dispelled that, and normal magecraft couldn't change you that fast… fine," she said, reluctantly. "But you're pushing your luck, especially since now I know you were the one who attacked me two days ago."

"To be fair, you were just as eager to fight me," Ranma returned, but was only met with a continued glare. Shrugging, and immediately regretting it as a lance of pain shot down her arm, she turned her attention away from the slightly less homicidal mage, noting that Saber looked as unbothered as before, though Shiro's eyes were slightly wide and his mouth was half open, as if he were in the middle of saying something.

Sitting back down, Ranma grabbed several rolls of bandages and some disinfectant from the open first-aid kit, starting to work on the cuts on her shoulder. "Y-you just accept that so casually?!" Shiro asked, and Ranma wasn't sure if he was talking to Tohsaka or herself.

"It's a little strange," the mage replied, "But I've heard of similar things." Her expression turned speculative. "I might want to examine it later, though, if this doesn't go south."

"Look, I don't want some random mage pokin' at my curse when they don't know what they're doing," Ranma shook her head. "I don't need it locked again or somethin'."

"Locked… again?" Shiro asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Long story," Ranma grumbled.

"That doesn't matter," Tohsaka dismissed. "So… if you're that girl, then that means… you use that Odic Energy fighting style, right?"

"Odic… what?" Ranma asked, starting to be irritated at how many times she'd been sounding like an idiot lately."

Tohsaka crossed her arms again. "The physical enhancement without magic."

"You mean Chi?" Ranma guessed. "Like this?" She held up one hand, a small orb of golden energy springing into existence there.

The other girl almost seemed to teleport as she moved across the room, peering at the ball of energy from mere inches away.

"Rin, are you certain that's wise?" Saber asked, stepping forward from her position against the wall nervously.

"Oh… um, right," the mage stammered, stepping back, Ranma allowing the ball of energy to dissipate. "But yes, I meant that."

"I'm a martial artist, I've been trained to use it since I was ten or so, maybe earlier." Ranma shrugged again, and then immediately made a mental note that she had to stop doing that. "Haven't really gotten a serious hang of it until the last year or two, though."

"Hmm," Rin nodded. "That would explain why you ended up getting hit every time you tried to cast spells, if you were only trained in using Odic energy."

"I, um, haven't tried to cast spells," Ranma said, shifting nervously.

"Yes, you have!" Rin snapped irritably. "I saw your magic circuits open, just before I hit you in our fight, and before Kuzuki-Sensei did."

"You saw what?" Ranma asked, her eyes widening slightly.

"I saw it too," Shiro chipped in, having apparently recovered from his shock. "Before you got hit, your body was covered in the same sort of glowing lines as Tohsaka's magic crest."

"Yeah, that's…" Rin trailed off. "Wait, what did you say?" She turned slowly back to Shiro.

He tilted his head. "I… was agreeing with you?"

"No, about my…" Rin grabbed the cup that had contained the water Ranma had used to change, shoving it into Shiro's hand. "Reinforce this."

Wh-what?" he stammered.

"Just do it! Like that table, when we fought in the school."

"R-right," Shiro nodded. "I'm probably going to break it, my reinforcement isn't all that successful, usually." At Rin's steady look, he frowned, sitting at the table himself and placing the cup in front of him, the fingers of one hand resting on it.

Ranma watched him curiously whenever she could take attention away from wrapping her wounds. She wrapped the brace for her collarbone over her shirt for the moment, since she was fairly sure Rin wasn't going to accept a request for privacy to do it properly. At least there had been a sling for her arm in the kit.

"Huh," she said, tilting her head as she observed Shiro concentrating on the cup. "I think she's got a point."

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about this?" the mage demanded.

"I don't," Ranma admitted, "but judging from when you used magic, I don't think it's supposed to hurt that much."

"Hurt?" Rin asked, looking sharply over at the martial artist for a moment, before returning her attention to Shiro.

When it became obvious that the boy wasn't going to respond himself, Ranma answered. "A lot, it looks like. He's trying to hide it, but there are some muscle responses you can't really stop."

"Shiro, that's enough," Rin said, flatly.

"No, I've almost… damn!" the cup burst apart into several pieces on the tabletop, and Shiro's shoulders slumped. "Failed again."

"I can't believe this…" Rin mumbled, rubbing at her forehead. "I think you might have been overly generous when you called yourself a magic user instead of a Mage."

"I know I'm not very good," Shiro said, "But you knew that already. What did I do?"

Rin opened and closed her mouth several times, before swallowing what she was about to say with great difficulty. "Just… I need to think about this," she finally said, letting out a deep breath. "Whatever you do, don't do THAT again until… ever."

"But… I usually practice with it every night," Shiro said, confused. "It's the only way I'll ever get better, right?"

"Every…" Rin's eye twitched. "You complete idiot! You've been trying to build a fresh magic circuit every time you cast a spell! You've been systematically destroying your nervous system. For the fourth time so far in this war, I have no idea how you aren't dead! So, don't do anything until I tell you to!"

"Okay, so how are you supposed to do it?" Ranma asked, something beginning to turn over at the back of her mind, and interrupting Shiro as he was about to open his mouth, with something that would probably turn this into an argument, based on his expression.

Rin turned to look at her, before the glowing pattern of blue-green lines appeared on her skin once again. "It's sort of like…" she seemed to grope for words for a moment. "It's like a switch in your head, Some mages call it a form of self-hypnosis. Opening and closing your magic circuits isn't supposed to be the hard part, it's awakening them in the first place. ...Which is what he," she jabbed a shaking thumb at Shiro, "Is doing every time… sort of."

"A switch?" Shiro asked, his expression now contemplating as well. "That's not how my father described any of this."

"Your father…" Rin bit her tongue, "I think," she started slowly, "he may have died at an important stage in your training." The next phrase uttered so low that Ranma barely caught it, "At least that's what I'm going to believe so I don't curse him out."

"...Alright," Shiro said, reluctantly. "I won't train tonight."

"With your magic," Saber cut in. "Physical training is still important."

"Y-yeah, right," Shiro nodded once more, this time a little more shakily.

"With that out of the way…" Rin let out a deep breath, turning to Ranma. "You're telling me that you aren't a trained mage, and you summoned your Servant by accident. I'm not really sure what information you can actually give us." She shot a glare over at Shiro before returning her gaze to the martial artist.

"Well, interrogating me wasn't exactly my idea," the redhead returned. "I've already told you the only major bit you seemed not to already know, about that teacher being an assassin. Seriously, you two shouldn't engage him hand to hand unless Shiro's a hell of a lot better fighter than you are."

"What was that?!" Rin demanded, angrily.

"By yourself, I could probably still beat you now if I really had to," Ranma gestured at her arm. "You're gunna want to send Saber or Archer against that guy."

"It's not really going to matter," Rin said, obviously trying not to grit her teeth. "We've discovered who he is, it wouldn't surprise me if Kuzuki never leaves the temple after today. They'll want us to fight on their home ground, or pick the rest of the Masters off while we're vulnerable."

Ranma nodded. "Already attacked me once. Some strange string spell, and a lot of purple lasers."

"Sounds about right," Shiro muttered, wincing.

"We'll need to check our bounded fields and…" Rin trailed off as she saw the confusion on Ranma's face. "...You don't know what a bounded field is."

The redhead nodded.

"Also, I apparently can't use magic," Shiro chipped in, looking at her dubiously.

Rin sighed, then raised her hand to her chin for a few moments, cupping the elbow in her other hand. Abruptly, her index finger sprang up, and she nodded resolutely. "Then everyone is going to have to stay here."

"Wh-what?!" Shiro asked, startled.

"If we're going to be allies, " the mage started, "staying together will make it easier to deal with any attacks Caster launches. I can also maintain the wards and barriers until I figure out a way to fix what's wrong with Shiro."

"There's nothing wrong with me," the red haired boy grumbled, but was summarily ignored.

"Wait, you're lumpin' me in as an ally?" Ranma asked, the situation having changed a bit too suddenly.

"Well, if you go out on your own at this point, with your wounds and lack of experience, Caster will take you down quickly," Rin replied. "Don't read anything into this, at the end of this war, we're going to be enemies and Archer will defeat your Servant, got it?"

"I don't even know if I've got enough room for everybody," Shiro objected.

"Well, if this ward field or whatever extends over the whole property, I could set up my tent outside," Ranma offered. "Have to go get it, though."

"Then it's decided," Rin nodded. "Meet back here before the sun goes down, I have things to get myself, and Caster probably won't attack before nightfall."

"Um, I-" Ranma started, but was cut off as the black haired girl stood up and headed for the door. When it slammed behind her, the martial artist looked oddly at Shiro. "Kinda… forceful, ain't she?"

"Yup, that's Tohsaka," the boy replied. "I think it's a good idea that you've got someone around while your arm heals, though. I've had an injury like that. It wasn't fun, and if I hadn't had Sakura around to help…" He shook his head.

"This really isn't that big a deal," Ranma laughed it off. "Be back to normal in a couple weeks, tops."

"That's kinda hard to believe, but I probably shouldn't be complaining about how fast someone else heals right now," the red haired boy laughed nervously.

Ranma looked at him oddly, but decided to dismiss the comment, heading for the door herself. "I should be back in about an hour."

HR.

"Gaaaaaaaahhhh!" Rin Tohsaka yelled, pounding her fists against a stone wall and bringing her head to rest against them in the culmination of a long, angry rant to herself.

"Would this be a bad time to say 'I told you so?'" a condescending male voice came from behind her, as her Servant shimmered into existence. "Allying yourself with that Master is nothing but trouble."

"Aren't you going to complain about the other one too?" Rin mumbled into her arm.

"No," Archer replied evenly. "For one, helping him was Emiya's idea in the first place, and for another, he hasn't demonstrated self-destructive idiocy right in front of me yet."

"Normally I'd argue with that," Rin said, straightening, "But I just found out how he channels mana."

"Oh?" Archer asked. "This should be good."

"Just… be quiet and follow me home, I need to get some supplies."

"Yes, Master," the Servant said, as the two began walking again.

HR.

Thoughts whirled through Ranma's mind as she stepped out of the gate to the Emiya residence. She'd been missing a few crucial facts, but now that she had them connections were being formed, even if what they were saying sounded insane. Still, it all added up. The times Rin had mentioned magic circuits showing up directly matched the times her Chi had vanished in the middle of battle, and if it were a mental switch, if she didn't know it was there she could trigger it accidentally.

The only problem now was figuring out what to do about… Her train of thought was interrupted as her Servant materialized next to her. "So, how'd it go?" Ryoga asked, glancing back at the building.

"Tohsaka wants all of us to team up to try and deal with Caster," Ranma replied. "Said it'd be better if we were all in the same place to cover each other. ...Then she said Archer would still kill you at the end of the war."

"So, business as usual," the Servant nodded. "Are you going to do it?"

"Workin' with people who know what's goin' on around here would be helpful," Ranma answered. "Besides, Shiro seems fairly trustworthy… even if his Servant doesn't trust us that much."

"The Assassin class is sort of notorious for killing Masters," Ryoga said, bluntly.

"Yeah…" Ranma said, falling silent. Nothing was spoken between the two for a few more moments, Ranma trying to bring her mind back to what she'd been thinking of before, but her vision kept drifting back towards her Servant, his last comment certainly not helping. "Look…" she finally said, reluctantly, pausing slightly, trying to figure out the best way to word what she wanted to say.

"You know I suck at bein' diplomatic, so I'm asking this straight out," She turned around, staring her servant straight in the eyes.

"Did you kill me?"

Ryoga stopped immediately in his tracks, staring straight back. He didn't say 'of course not!' or even 'how did you know?" or any of the other outbursts she would have expected from the Ryoga she knew. Instead, his head just lowered, and he breathed a sigh. "Yes," he said simply, after a short silence.

"Congrats man, you actually did it!" Ranma exclaimed, smiling slightly. Ryoga could only frown, his fists shaking as his rage started to build.

"Are you kidding me? A congratulations?!" He yelled. "You died by my hand, and you're laughing about it?"

"And that's more like the Ryoga I know." Ranma stated, pointing at him with her index finger, her grin widening at gaining some familiar ground. "Something just felt off about you after I summoned you. Don't get me wrong, you're always kinda angry and depressed, but the Ryoga I know can be kinda… goofy sometimes, too. Giggling over how you figure Akane's gunna react when you give her a gift, or maniacal cackling about how you're going to beat me at last, or whatever."

"But it was different here." Ranma continued. "You are always serious, and honestly, way too overprotective of me. Trying to convince me to quit this war, trying to keep me out of trouble. It's like you were trying to make up for some great regret."

"I-" Ryoga started, but was interrupted.

"Lemme guess," she stepped to the side of the road, leaning against a wall. "You killed me, then ran. Ya left Nerima and never looked back. Beat yourself up for it constantly, got more lost than you ever have before, throwing yourself into stupid situations just 'cuz they were there until one of them finally killed you." Her smirk abruptly turned into a frown, and she glared at him. "How am I doin' so far?"

"How… how did you know?" Ryoga stammered, his anger momentarily derailed by the irritation he could hear in his master's voice.

Ranma was about to shrug, but managed to stop herself and just waved one hand. "P-chan, we've been trying to punch each other's faces in for over two years. Only person I know better than you's the old man." She then looked away. "'course, I guess I should've remembered that you ain't really a martial artist."

Ryoga bristled in spite of himself, but managed to keep from snapping at Ranma. "I... guess I deserve that," he admitted, taking another deep breath.

"And that," Ranma immediately turned her glare back on him, "is what I mean. You've been beating yourself up over this for how long?"

"Wait, you're acting like it was no big deal?" Ryoga asked, disbelieving. "You begged me not to fight you, and I didn't listen because I wanted some damned stress relief! You don't understand…"

"Idiot," Ranma cut him off. "I saw it! Been having some strange dreams lately, probably part of having a Servant. I know what happened."

"Then how can you be so casual about this! I murdered you!" The lost one roared, towering over his master.

"Hey, I never said I was happy about it," Ranma raised a hand as she stepped back. "I don't intend to let you kill me. I mean, man, that'd be humiliating." She laughed, smirking again as her Servant's anger seemed to redirect slightly. "Ever since the fight with Saffron, I've been having a strange problem with my Chi. Every once in a while, it just sorta… cuts out. Everything I'm doing with it just stops working. I can get it back in a second or so, but that's why your hit did so much damage."

"So that's why you didn't-" Ryoga started, but Ranma spoke up over him.

"But do you really think that if I was desperate to avoid fighting you, I couldn't do it?" The Servant blinked, confused. "I'm faster than you, and I can walk in a straight line. All I had to do was run," Ranma said, and then tossed up her working hand. "Hell, we were right next to the canal, I could've just jumped in and swam for it, you couldn't have followed me."

"Then why? Why did you stick around to fight instead of running if you had a problem like that?" Ryoga demanded.

Ranma snorted. "Well, it hasn't happened yet, so how would you think I'd know?" She joked. Seeing that the Servant's expression remained very unamused, she thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"I wasn't insulting you when I said you ain't a martial artist," she started. "There's somethin' the old man says. A lot of times, he uses it as an excuse to justify something stupid he's done, but he honestly believes it, too, and so do I. He says 'A Martial Artist's life is fraught with peril.' He doesn't just mean us and our training trip. Any martial artist who goes far enough pushes their body so far past human limits that if they screw up at the wrong time, they're dead. The danger was worse for me in that fight, but yeah, I might've figured out how to get past it, and I knew the risks."

"Th-that's the most idiotic, irresponsible, suicidal-"

"Except that it worked." Ranma cut Ryoga off mid-tirade. "I've been doin' it since the start of this grail war thing, right?" As the realization sunk in, Ryoga's face turned slightly pale, but Ranma didn't seem to notice. "Now I know what's wrong, and how to solve it. Trust me, I ain't gunna die like that."

The Servant opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but couldn't think of anything to say. Eventually, after the silence got too oppressive, Ranma finally spoke again. "I… guess I forgot that you didn't look at it that way. Should've thought about how you'd have reacted if it happened, sorry."

"You're… apologizing," Ryoga started laughing. "You're apologizing for me killing you! After you congratulated me for killing you! Do you know how insane that sounds?!"

Ranma only laughed, and started walking again. "Ryoga, if we look at my life so far, it would be a miracle if I wasn't insane. Besides, I think you've probably gone through enough torture over this." She turned around again, walking backwards with her good hand behind her head. "If you gotta keep looking at it that way, Fine. I forgive you, alright?"

"Now let's just move on. We've got to get my stuff, and continue fighting this stupid war." Ranma spun on her heel without another word, and kept on walking towards their camp.

As his Master walked off, Ryoga looked after her uncertaintly. He'd often heard Ranma boasting that he'd die for his art. Only now was it brought home exactly how literal he'd been about it. "That… isn't normal," he muttered, disturbed, more than reassured.

END.

"Wait, so… Rin's moved in early, and there's another girl at Shiro's house? ...Which route is this, again?"

"This is fanfiction. Things are supposed to be different, right?"

"I don't like it, That new girl smells like one of those irritating extra love interest routes they always put in Remakes, and if she gets hers before I get mine…"

"Settle down, Illya-chan. I guarantee there is no Ranma/Shiro route in this fanfic… aside from that one Omake."

"Whaaaaat?!"

"Ahahaha, forget I said anything."

"I will not, what did you mean by that?!"

"Ahem… While I avoid Illya's desperate questioning, we hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please read, review, and tell us what you think!" 


	6. Chapter 6: Changing Stance

Well, it's taken twice as long as it should have to get here, but... Chapter 6! I apologize for the delay, and hope you enjoy it!

Also, special thanks to Doctor Blood. I feel that you really need a few mental scars to write properly in the Fate/ fandom, and he has generously provided.

Chapter 6: Changing Stance.

"Why did you bring so many boxes?" Shiro asked, carefully stacking one of the cardboard containers Archer had brought in the hall closet. "And why are they all full of glass?"

Rin crossed her arms. "Part of your training," she said simply, "but we'll talk about that later. Do you know what that girl's doing in the front yard?"

"Ranma, you mean?" Shiro asked, walking over to the front door and briefly opening it. Outside, between the dojo and the house next to where she had set up her tent, the redhead was moving slowly and deliberately, her free arm making graceful movements as she stepped. "Looks… sorta like Tai chi," he guessed. "When I asked, she said it was meditation."

"That isn't meditation," Rin tapped the fingers of her right hand on her left elbow, irritably.

Shiro just shrugged. "Well, that's what she said."

"I guess it doesn't really matter," the black haired girl huffed. "It's getting kind of late, what's for dinner?"

"...Right, you're staying for dinner," Shiro said, turning from the door and almost jumping as he noticed Saber suddenly standing next to the taller girl. "I'll see what I can put together." Moving past the two, he entered the kitchen and felt himself relax slightly.

He guessed it was natural that Rin would expect to be fed, she was fairly clearly under the impression that he was causing her a lot of work. He grimaced, opening the fridge and looking for something to feed four people, including Saber. As he rummaged, he continued thinking. Even if Rin wasn't a fan, he was happy that another master had allied with them, even temporarily, and had stepped in so readily at school. It meant that there was someone else who probably wouldn't horribly abuse the grail the way that priest had said it had been ten years before.

Nodding as he caught sight of something that would probably do, the red haired boy reached into the fridge.

HR.

Ranma winced as her stance faltered, the carefully ordered kata she'd been practicing suddenly off pace. Frowning darkly, she stopped, lowering her arm to her side and taking a deep, somewhat shaky breath.

She'd started working as soon as she got back to Shiro's house with her supplies, carefully running through the events of every fight she'd had since her Chi had started vanishing in reverse order, until she'd eventually gotten to that one. The one whose last moments and aftermath would probably be burned into her memory for the rest of her life.

Those two final attacks, the fall to the ground, the desperate pleading for Akane to wake up even though her eyes had completely closed, and then the heat. Moments before, he'd still been recovering from the bone numbing cold of the Gekkaja, but suddenly warmth seemed to suffuse his body in patches, the water surrounding them almost seeming to resonate as it did. Ranma had pretty much ignored this, still holding and pleading with Akane, until the warmth had increased to burning, as if half the nerves in his body had been directly lit on fire. He'd screamed, falling forward over her, and then… she'd opened her eyes.

The aftermath of that, whatever it had been, hadn't been fun. He'd barely been able to walk for the next day and a half, one arm still completely numb, but had managed to hide it by walking slowly and avoiding movement whenever possible. Eventually, feeling had returned, but now, with what she'd learned about magic, the whole series of events took on a different meaning.

Had he somehow used magic to bring Akane back? And once that opened his circuits, they kept on popping open when… She frowned, glaring at the house in front of her. She still had no idea why it was happening. Closing her eyes again, she began moving, running through the events at the end of that battle once more. Despite how uncomfortable it was, she kept running over Akane's return, feeling for something, anything that would…

Her eyes flew open and she looked down to see a blue-green line running down her forearm, a slight warmth tracing its path, as well as several others all over her body. As she looked, the circuit flickered out, but at least it was progress.

HR.

Rin Tohsaka was trying not to be impressed, as she leaned on the sliding door that lead from Shiro's living room to the side yard, observing the martial artist before her, who had shifted from slow, deliberate movements to a quick, precise dance of fists and feet that somehow didn't look awkward despite one arm being bound to her chest.

The most impressive part about it, however, was the blue-green lines of magic circuits that glowed along the girl's arms and legs. "Did I just watch someone learn body reinforcement in half an hour?" She grumbled, her eye twitching.

("More like adapting a pre-existing technique.") She didn't jump, or yelp in surprise as the comment butted in on her musing. Anyone who said she had would be asking for a Gandr shot between the eyes. ("The principles of Mana and Odic enhancement are very similar.")

("Of course,") Archer continued, as the redhead fell out of stance, and then her knees buckled. She barely caught herself on her one shaking arm, panting. ("She's overdoing it a bit.") The twin-tailed girl winced in sympathy. She'd only ever overstrained her physical enhancement once, while fighting Kirei. It felt like she'd pulled every muscle in her body, including a few she didn't know about.

"You'll rip yourself apart if you keep pushing your circuits like that," she offered, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah, well," Ranma responded, slowly hauling herself to her feet. "Sooner I stop this magic stuff from screwin' me up, the better."

"Stop it from screwing you up?" the mage asked, frowning irritably. "What's that supposed to mean? Magic is the most valuable gift you can have."

Ranma snorted, reaching for a towel she'd hung over the top of her tent and wiping her arms and face. "Right, Chi that feels like it's burning and puts way more strain on my body for less result, great gift."

"Physical enhancement isn't the best use for mana," Rin said, defensively.

"Oh, so what is?" Ranma asked, slumping down on the porch Rin had just vacated.

"Well, there are a lot," the dark haired girl replied. "This Grail War is powered by mana, for one. It can create bounded fields with effects like defensive wards, or environmental advantages, and can be used for healing. The true magics can even be used to travel dimensions, or even bring someone back from the dead."

"Wait, so you can bring people back to life?" the redhead asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well no, I can't, I can't do any of the true magics, only a few Magi can."

"Okay, so maybe the healing and wards and whatever are useful," Ranma admitted, "but none of it's that good for fighting. I mean, if that thing you shot me with is your best projectile attack, I can match anything you can do in combat. Only thing it's really useful for there is I apparently need it if I wanna fight Servants."

"You want to fight Servants?" the dark haired girl demanded, the emphasis very much on the second word. She knew it was possible that she might have to fight them, and it was why she was keeping her gems in reserve, but to actively want conflict with one was… "You're insane."

The redhead only tilted her head, and was about to open her mouth when a voice cut her off.

"Everyone," Shiro called from inside the house. "Dinner's ready!"

By the time Rin turned back from locating the voice, there was a gust of wind and her conversation partner was gone.

HR.

"Hey Shiro, this is really good," Ranma praised, leaning back slightly and sighing in delight. The red haired boy had prepared a variety of Japanese dishes, which was good. She'd been afraid that he'd make smaller portions, but evidently Saber liked to eat as much as she did, so there had been plenty. "Can I get the recipe for this stir fry? Kasumi'll probably like it."

"Sure, I'll write it down after dinner," the red haired boy replied, looking up from his own plate.

The table lapsed into silence for a short while after that, and Ranma found herself looking around speculatively at the other three. Shiro and Rin seemed to be eating normally, but the blonde Servant across from her was staring at her plate intently, her chopsticks moving in steady, mechanical motions.

Ranma's hand twitched towards her own. Curiosity burned at the back of her mind to find out exactly how good the white and blue clad woman was, and the chopstick sparring technique would probably do some of that, or at least get her some extra food.

"So who's Kasumi?" Ranma's hand twitched as Shiro's question cut across the silence, and she looked up to see him looking at her. Had he known what she was going to do?

"Um, I live at her family's dojo in Tokyo," she explained.

"You… really don't strike me as a city kid," Rin interjected.

Ranma shook her head. "I'm not. I spent most of my life on a trainin' trip with my old man, but he brought us to the dojo 'cuz he promised his son would marry one of the Tendo daughters, and I've been livin' there ever since."

"So you're married to this Kasumi?" Saber asked.

"Kasumi? No," Ranma almost choked, then shook her head so hard her pigtail slapped against her back. "That'd be weird. And I ain't married to anyone, yet."

"I see," the blonde woman said.

After a moment, Ranma couldn't restrain herself, her hand twitching towards the chopsticks again before asking "Can I get a spar in with ya after dinner?"

"Shiro and I will probably be training for most of that time," the blonde shook her head.

"Maybe we should sit in on that, though," Rin cut in.

Saber looked uncertainly at Shiro, who fidgeted with his hands before sighing. "Yeah, I guess that'd be okay."

HR.

'Why didn't I say no?' Shiro thought, as he ran quickly through his warm up exercises. It'd taken the group a while to clean up the dinner dishes, but after that they'd proceeded directly into the dojo, and now he was about to let Tohsaka and someone he barely knew watch him get chucked into a wall by Saber.

For a fleeting moment he wondered if Tohsaka knew what was going to happen and had suggested it for her own amusement. She was a dangerous woman, after all, the idea suited her. Shaking that off as he walked to the side of the room and picked up his usual wooden training sword, he took a deep, cleansing breath and turned back to Saber, noticing the two other girls sitting along one wall.

"You're ready, Shiro." It was less a question and more a demand, as he'd been used to in the last few training sessions.

He nodded, getting his blade up to guard as she charged forward. He was getting better, he knew this, if only because it took a full ten seconds for her to send him slamming into a wall, after he parried or moved out of the way of several strikes. He'd just stepped to the side and tried to reset himself, but hadn't done so quickly enough as a blow across the chest threw him into the wall, his weapon flying in the other direction.

He looked up at Saber, who was merely waiting for him to get back up, and then over at Rin and Ranma. It'd been Rin's expression he'd been worried about, but Ranma's that caught him. The redhead's eyes were narrowed, flicking rapidly between his recovering form and Saber, a look of deep concentration on her face.

The boy shrugged this off, walking over to pick up his blade and getting back into stance.

Three falls later, he heard the sound of footsteps. Looking up, he blinked as he saw Ranma approaching the middle of the room, a bokken in her hand.

"I said I couldn't spar with you right now," Saber said, a small frown crossing her face.

"Not plannin' on it," Ranma returned, as she picked up Shiro's dropped weapon and walked toward him, stretching out both blades.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Just take 'em," Ranma ordered.

The red haired boy did so, gripping a hilt in each hand.

"Now fall into stance," Ranma continued. Shiro did so, surprised at how easy it felt. The other redhead walked around him, looking him up and down. "The bokken are longer than whatever you're used to, right arm out and down." He obeyed. "Okay, Saber, try it now."

The blonde looked at both redheads dubiously, but obligingly lunged forward as Ranma got out of the way. The next engagement, inevitably, ended in Shiro flying into a wall, but it took considerably longer as the extra blade helped him deflect her blows and bleed off their force. Still, Saber hit like a truck, and eventually a block failed.

"That... worked," the blonde admitted, her face dark, though the glare was aimed at Shiro. Ranma had been the one who'd interfered, why was he in trouble? "You didn't tell me that you had previous weapons training," she said, as though answering his unspoken question.

"I... didn't, really," he said, uncertain. "Some practice with a bokken or shinai with Fuji-nee, that's it."

"Nah," Ranma disagreed. "you're rusty at it, but that was a good two weapon stance, and pulling those off right is a pain in the ass, especially with weapons you're not used to. Not a surprise Saber's methods didn't take that well, she was fighting your previous training."

"And what method was that?" Rin asked, now leaning against the wall. "All she was doing was hitting him with a stick. No teaching at all."

"That'd be the 'make the hurting stop' type of training," Ranma made a quoting gesture with one hand. "You learn, or you get covered in bruises."

"I... wouldn't put it that way," Saber looked uncomfortable, "but the description is accurate."

"It's a good method," Ranma smiled fondly. "Unfortunately, you want him defendin' himself fast, and it takes too long."

"What would you suggest?" Saber asked, curiously.

"Teach him how he should move," Ranma replied. "Let him figure out why when he's not in so much danger."

Saber considered this for a moment as though it were a new idea for her, and then nodded, stepping forward. "Into stance," she ordered, walking around him the way Ranma had earlier as he did so, and grabbing his limbs to adjust them slightly. "Now, strike left." He did so. "Again, more quickly." Ranma fell back to the wall, watching once more.

The lesson went on like this for several minutes, Saber acting much more like the previous Sensei Shiro had had, though that mercy eventually came to an end as she called for another spar. This time, after he flew into the wall, she began listing the flaws in what he'd done and his stance... and Tohsaka was still watching. Damn it all.

HR.

"I'm not sure if he's that interesting," Ryoga offered, stepping up next to Archer as the white haired Servant glared into the yard of the Emiya residence, specifically at a boy who was standing on the deck that circled the house, staring across at a small shed.

The other merely grunted, his gaze not wavering until the boy turned, re-entering the house. "Almost a decade," he said, after a minute of silence. "He spent almost a decade entering that shed and putting himself through ridiculous levels of pain, desperate to master the magical arts despite being convinced that he had absolutely no talent. And now, even after he's been convinced that it's self-destructive idiocy, he's still thinking of continuing to do it."

"He's... determined, I'll give him that," The lost one offered, uncertain of where this conversation was going.

"Determination to excess is just idiocy, especially in such a pointless goal," The white haired man countered. "In that time, with that level of dedication, how far do you think he could have gotten in your art? In any art that he understood the least bit?"

Ryoga grunted, having to concede the point.

"And this is the master mine's decided to bind herself to," Archer growled, crouching down on the rooftop.

"If you're trying to convince me to strike out on my own, it wasn't likely before and it's even less so now," the Assassin said.

"Less likely now?" Archer asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ryoga only looked back to the Emiya home's yard, and the tent set up near the shed. "A decade of work on a pointless goal? Yeah, that is stupid," he admitted. "On the plus side, at least he won't be congratulated for it after he finds out how stupid it was."

The white haired man's eyebrow twitched.

HR. - ?/?/20?.

He had to keep running. His muscles trembled in protest, and the sweat ran down his back in a river, mixed with blood from a lucky hit that still burned like fire. Even still, he chuckled. At least the damned thing had hit him with a curse that would do less than nothing to him, as it'd found out when he'd driven a bolt of purplish energy through its chest.

Noting that he'd seemingly opened up some distance, unable to hear the crashing it made lumbering through the forest after him, he swung his weapon off his back, the massive weight snapping a nearby tree at the base of the trunk, the sounds it made in the darkness telling him that he'd gotten a few ghouls who'd been waiting in ambush.

Taking a moment to sense the world around him and the energy that had been woven through it, he drove his foot down into the ground, and then began running again, a bolt of mana shrieking past his ear.

A moment later, he saw his destination. Where he had started, a clearing near the edge of this near impenetrable forest, the body of one of the association mages who'd been sent in with him still pinned to a tree by some of the damned thing's knives, and to his extra senses, a pinkish-purple spider-web of lines waiting slightly off-its center.

"Never working for these guys again," he panted, Clearing the edge of the open area as a conflagration burst to life behind him, catching part of his travel pack. Almost tripping forward, his right hand came down into the center of the web of lines, index finger extended. As it drove into the ground, a pulse of energy raced down the lines, and he waited.

Just as he heard the thing entering the clearing, a roaring, rumbling noise seemed to rush in on him from every direction, leading a shockwave, and then a massive wall of debris before everything went dark.

HR. 02/07.

"Mornin', Saber." The blonde Servant turned at the sudden voice, doing her best to hide her surprise at the pigtailed girl who leaned against the entrance to the dojo.

"Good morning, Ranma," she replied levelly.

"So, you're not training' Shiro right now," the martial artist said, expectantly.

"I'm not," Saber nodded.

Ranma stepped into the room, walking over to take a position across from the Servant and falling into a fighting stance.

"You aren't going to get a weapon?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ranma shook her head, and the Servant took that as her cue to move, pushing off and lunging forward. The next few minutes would be an odd sight for people to watch, as the fist-fighter proceeded to dance around and strike her opponent with single fingers, the sword-wielder steadily increasing speed in response, until the two got into a comfortable rhythm of fast paced blows and counters.

"Why are you poking me?" the blonde demanded as the two relaxed slightly after a rapid flurry of strikes.

The redhead snorted. "Can't hurt you anyhow, real strikes are a waste of effort."

"Plus precision," Saber offered, gaining a grin and nod from her opponent. "You know, you'd have better reach with a sword, especially with your arm immobilized like that."

Ranma shook her head. "In a situation like this, I'd probably be best off with guns." Noting Saber's surprise, she continued. "Probably smallish, keep my mobility. Larger caliber semi-automatic, treated somehow since I'm dealing with Servants. Might be able to figure out how to do that with magic, I guess. Then an automatic for crowd control and such."

"That's…" The blonde's eyes were now wide, an unreadable expression flitting across her face. "You'd want to use that kind of tactic?"

"Nah," Ranma replied, simply, walking back over to the door and picking up a towel she'd left there. "I just said it'd probably be the most effective. Not really my style, though."'

"What is your style?" the Servant asked.

"Not swords, either," Ranma tossed off, wiping sweat from her face and neck.

HR.

"Hey Shiro, you got breakfast?" Ranma asked, walking through the side door into the living room only to come to a stop staring into the face of a surprised woman with light brown, bordering on orange, hair.

The two stared at each other for a moment, before the woman bolted to her feet. "Another one?!" she demanded, pointing at the martial artist dramatically.

"Another… what?" Ranma asked, blinking and pointing at herself.

"Shiro's got another girl here!" the woman yelled. "First Kiritsugu's old friend, then Rin Tohsaka, and now some other girl I don't know! Are you running a harem here or something, Shiro!?"

"If he is, I ain't part of it," Ranma growled, glaring at the older woman.

"Oh, then why are you here?" she demanded. During all of this, Shiro had been sitting at the table across from her, trying to open his mouth to say something but being interrupted every time he tried. Rin, on the other hand, was just leaning back, grinning at the situation.

"Ranma's just a wandering martial artist, Fuji-nee," the red haired boy finally managed to interject. "She's staying here for a little while."

"A wandering martial artist?" the older woman asked, studying the person in question intently. "I didn't even know that still happened."

"Yeah, well, it does," Ranma fidgeted under the scrutiny.

"Ah, I see!" Fuji-nee exclaimed, raising one finger. "You came thinking that you could challenge the training hall here, and Saber went a bit too hard on you, huh?"

"What?" Ranma asked, blinking, the same sentiment coming from the blonde who was entering behind her.

"So Shiro offered you a place to stay until you could travel safely!" the older woman rattled right along, gesturing at Ranma's bound arm.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what happened!" Rin nodded, getting confused looks from both Ranma and Shiro. Saber had apparently decided to ignore this conversation in favour of the food on the table.

"Alright, then," The light-brown haired woman said, cheerfully. "I'm Taiga Fujimura. I look after Shiro here, and I'm a teacher at the local school."

"Ranma Saotome," the martial artist replied, cautiously, before sitting down at the table.

"So, a real wandering martial artist, hmm?" Taiga mumbled, as Shiro passed Ranma a bowl. Grinning, she asked, "I don't suppose you go around saving maidens, doing the hero of justice thing?"

"...Hero of Justice?" Ranma quoted, noting that Shiro was starting to look uncomfortable for some reason. "Beaten up a few thugs, helped with some sealings. Pop says it's a martial artist's responsibility to deal with spirits and such," she said, slowly. "Hero of Justice is kinda overblown for that, though."

"Wow," Taiga chuckled. "You really are just like out of a period drama or something."

"What's that supposed 'ta mean?" Ranma asked, eyes narrowing.

"Well, you have to admit that talking about spirits as if they were actually a thing is a little strange," Rin said, glaring at the martial artist so intensely that Ranma could practically feel it.

"You don't go in for tradition much, Hmm?" Taiga glanced over at Rin before pushing her bowl towards the center of the table. "Well, I'll see you later, wounded hero. I should probably get to class."

"We're having class today?" Shiro asked. "I thought after yesterday…"

"Like I said earlier, the doctors said that most of us weren't affected too badly. They won't be pressuring students to be there, but I'll probably lose my job if I'm not. Incidentally…" She turned towards Shiro, eyes narrowing. "You'd better show up!"

The boy raised his arms in a warding gesture. "Okay, I've got it, I'll be there!"

"Right!" Taiga nodded decisively before hurrying out of the room.

When the front door slammed behind her shortly after, Rin exploded across the table, a snarl on her face. "What the hell was that?!"

"Huh?" Ranma asked, blinking, though not taking much more notice of the immensely angry mage.

"You know Ms. Fujimura isn't a mage, right?!" the black haired girl growled. "Why'd you mention sealing spirits to her?"

"Actually, I had no idea if she was a mage or not, but what's that got to do with spirits?"

"What does it have to do with…" Rin sputtered. "Non-mages shouldn't know about the supernatural! Hell, there's a standing order from the association that a civilian who sees a magical battle is to be dealt with, we're just lucky that Ms. Fujimura took it as a joke!"

"Dealt with?" Ranma narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

"In this case, we could probably just hypnotise her to forget it," Rin answered. "But some mages tend to be a lot more drastic."

"Well, then these guys have been doin' a fairly crappy job of it." Ranma snorted in disgust. "Sure, stuff's rarer in the city, but on the road I couldn't go more than ten kilometers without runnin' over a pissed shrine spirit, or magic soup that made your hair grow, or whatever. As for… drastic, anyone tries that around here 'n I'm breaking things, got it?"

"Hey, I wouldn't…" Rin stopped herself, and started again. "I mean, I would if…" She groaned in frustration. "Just try not to reveal things like that so casually. Shiro and I have to get to school."

"Wait, you're actually going to school?" Ranma asked.

"You heard Ms. Fujimura," the mage replied. "Besides, it's best to keep things as normal as possible until we're ready to make our move."

"And when are we going to do that?" Shiro asked, as he started clearing up the table.

"When I fix whatever you've been doing to your magic circuits, or if Caster makes the first move," Rin snapped. "Now let's go already!" With that, she got up and headed for the door.

"...I didn't say anything…" Shiro mumbled, before sighing and picking up a few more plates.

END.

Taiga Dojo.

(The Dojo background is criss-crossed with the white filliments that characterized Eri and Illya's combat magic in Zero and UBW, concentrating on Taiga's side.)

"Lemme go!"

"Not until you tell me what you meant about a Ranma Shiro pairing!"

"Look, it was only a stupid Omake the author wrote during the conceptualization of the fic. Things have changed enough it doesn't even fit, anyways! There's nothing to worry about!"

"I'll be the judge of that, now let's see it!"

"Yeash, fine. I was going to congratulate Shiro for avoiding a bad end at dinner this time, but I guess Illya-chan's determined. I hope you readers don't mind. Here ya go!"

Stupid Omake theater.

2/0X, scene - Fate's/Gate.

I wiped my hands dry as I walked out to the training hall, having just completed lunch preparations, and slid the door open to the sight of Saber and one of my newest allies, Ranma, dancing across the wooden floor in a quick flurry of blows. While Saber's strikes were as flowing and elegant as ever, she was holding back, as she did while training with me, and using a wooden training sword.

It irritated me slightly that she was doing so a bit less with her current opponent, but I dutifully studied her motions and committed them to memory, thinking that they would be useful later, marveling once more at her grace and power in combat. It was only when I saw her block a strike from a slim, delicate fist that I took in exactly how Ranma was fighting her.

The other master was, for some reason, in his cursed female form and was answering Saber's attacks with bare fists, a sharper, less elegantly flowing display but one that was impressive in its own right, as a small sheen of sweat built up along her exposed skin, a rivulet of it I noticed dropping down the side of her pale, slender neck... and she was a dude.

I jerked my train of thought away from where it had been wandering, continuing to observe as she bounced around the much more stationary Saber, lashing out with punches or kicks in one location before jumping away from counter-attacks, her uninhibited breasts bouncing freely inf- She was a dude.

I smacked myself lightly on the side of the head, and switched my gaze to the new combatant's face, studying her expressions to see how she was doing. Her eyes were narrowed, a small V of concentration between her eyebrows, pale, pink lips tight together as if in a slight pout and God damn it, she was a dude!

"Um, lunch is ready!" I yelped, violently. The reaction of the two fighting before me was more violent than my yell, both turning towards me as if in perfect synchronization, and nodding. Saber barely took the time to place her training sword back on the rack before the two of them charged past me towards the house.

End Omake.

"See? Totally harmless."

(Illya sulks in a dark, purple tinged corner.)

"Ehehehehe... Anyways, everyone, we hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let us know what you thought. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have to go deal with Illya."


	7. Chapter 7: Punctuated equilibrium

Hello! Sorry for the wait. I'd absolutely LOVE to blame it on all the prep work for 'Fools rush in,' but... that would be a filthy lie. It's mostly the fault of super robot wars and my great skill at procrastinating. Anyhow, on with the show!

Chapter 7: Punctuated equilibrium.

02/08.

Ryoga muttered curses to himself, leaning his head against a very familiar wall that he'd passed half a dozen times in the last four hours. Morning was approaching fast, again, and for another night he had failed. At least this time, he knew that Ranma was safe at the Emiya house, its wards and two other Servants protecting him.

They'd been there for the past day and a half, the only legitimate mage, Tohsaka, trying to give both Ranma and Shiro a crash course in the principles of magic that reminded the Hibiki just a bit of Elder Ku-lon. Tricking Emiya into swallowing a mana charged stone to force open his circuits had even been a bit Genma-ish, but she seemed trustworthy otherwise.

Unfortunately, even if his master was safer than he had been, Ryoga's own quest wasn't going anywhere. He thought, briefly, of asking Ranma to help him, but knew that would result in the boy insisting on coming with him, and that would probably end… badly.

Raising his head and straightening his back, the Assassin-class Servant turned to continue down the street, hoping it would lead to a destination he could use. He'd thought he'd spotted a subway entrance a few minutes previous. Just as he was about to turn a corner, he stopped, turning slowly back to the street in time to spot a tall, blue-clad figure walking casually down it as if the skin-tight bodysuit and blood-red spear over a shoulder were perfectly normal. "Lancer," He said, falling into a defensive stance.

The Servant in question rolled his eyes. "You and I both know that without your master here, you could fade into mana and leave any time you want," he stated, casually. "I'm not here to attack you."

"Then why are you here?" The lost one demanded, only relaxing slightly.

Lancer shrugged, lowering his weapon and leaning against it. "Curiosity, mostly," he admitted. "My master's been having me gather information on everyone in this war. Personally, I'd rather just have a good fight and get it over with, no skin off my nose if we lose, but I guess I can't blame them for being cautious. You, though," He shook his head.

"You've got all these distinguishing marks. The fangs, the bandannas, the umbrella for a weapon. You're not trying to hide anything, but I've got no idea who you could be. Not to mention that the way you fight is nothing like an Assassin, and you spend every night wandering in circles."

Ryoga felt the old shame welling up and mercilessly squashed it. He knew he hadn't been getting anywhere, someone else reminding him about it didn't much matter. "I'm not telling you who I am."

"Didn't think you would," Lancer answered, easily. "I was wondering if you'd tell me what you're doing, though."

"Looking for something," Ryoga grunted back, starting to walk again.

"I thought that," Lancer responded, following after him. "But what, exactly?"

The Assassin considered for a long moment, before responding. "A train station."

"A train-" The Servant behind him sounded astonished. "Why would you want a train station? And how could you fail to find it for three days?" Ryoga didn't answer, ignoring the other and turning down a sidestreet. "No, you want right here," Lancer interjected.

After several more minutes of walking, occasionally interrupted by the blue haired man's guidance, The lost one stood in front of a stairwell leading down to a subway line. Turning, he saw the the Lancer was giving him a speculative look. "So, on top of everything else, you've got no sense of direction."

"Shut up," Ryoga growled, bringing a chuckle from the taller man.

"You really are interesting," Lancer said, once again leaning on his spear. "Fighting you again should be fun, when my master finally gets around to it." As the lost one twitched, he continued. "Then again, that master of yours is pretty interesting too, glossy red hair, silky, pale skin, and great-"

"He's actually a guy," Ryoga interrupted.

Lancer shrugged. "She's not right now."

Ryoga just shook his head and turned to enter the station. As he exited easy sight, the blue haired servant nodded to himself. He hadn't been lying, really. The assassin was an anomaly. So was the archer, but getting near him for a casual chat probably wouldn't be as easy, as he never left his master's side for long. Of course, what he'd learned about the Assassin wasn't all that useful. He was looking for something, and got lost easily. Normally that would be a huge weakness, but the fact that any servant could find their master's location anywhere negated most of its drawbacks.

"Ah well, at least he found his train," Lancer muttered, before taking off into the city.

HR.

The sliding doors parted, and he stepped quickly off of the train. He'd planted himself right next to them as soon as he'd boarded, thankful that it was early enough that the crowds of salarymen hadn't really gotten started. Now, he was finally there. Nerima, Japan. He could still feel his master's presence pulling him in a certain direction, but did his best to ignore that as he stepped out onto the platform and after a few false starts, up the stairs to street level. Resolutely, he began searching.

Of course, he didn't find anything. He'd only gotten here with Lancer's help, after all. Where before, he couldn't find the train station, now he couldn't get away from the damned place. He'd see brief, tantalizing glimpses of streets he recognized, the school entrance, the arch marking the entrance to Furinkan's main shopping street, but in the end he always ended up back at the stairs down.

The glimpses he was getting weren't helping, either. Many years previous, he'd started running away from this place, and even with his mission, an uneasy sensation seemed to crawl through his guts every time he saw a mailbox Ukyo had mistaken for Tsubasa and tried to smash into next tuesday, or a wall that had seen recent battle damage.

He shook his head, ignoring those feelings and continuing on. When the sun began to rise, he considered heading back, but was sure that he wouldn't get this close again. Coming across the shopping district again, he spotted a flash of purple and heard the jingle of a bike bell.

His mouth was half open to call out to the amazon riding her bike down the street when the name caught in his throat. A tear-stained, rage filled face flashed into his mind, the amazon girl screaming accusations at him in mandarin. By the time he shook it off, Shampoo had leapt to the roof of a nearby building, not noticing him.

Turning away, he began to walk again, his shoulders slumping. "That was a miserable failure," he mumbled to himself. The worst part was that Shampoo had never done that. He hadn't seen her since running away, either, but the nightmares had come. Everyone he'd ever known hating him, screaming accusations and attacking.

He laughed bitterly. It'd actually been easier seeing Ranma himself than calling out to Shampoo. At least the pigtailed boy's inability to take anything seriously and maddening smirk kept the lost one's mind on task. Now, well, if he couldn't even talk to Shampoo, what would happen if he ran into Akane? There was a decent chance his younger self wouldn't even be in Nerima today, and all of the others were.

He was half way through turning around to head back to the train station when a familiar voice stopped him cold. "Oh Ryoga-kun, hello!"

He turned slowly to see a tall, brown haired woman smiling at him with one hand raised and a shopping basket in the other. "K-kasumi," he croaked, his mind going blank for a moment.

The girl blinked as she got a better look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I thought you were-"

"It's me!" The servant said hurriedly, his brain still trying to recover. "I'm Ryoga, it's just… complicated."

"Oh," The eldest Tendo sister tilted her head slightly. "Well, you look very dashing," She offered.

"I… uh… thanks," Ryoga said lamely, stepping towards the girl. She looked just as he remembered, which was natural, he supposed, since this was the Kasumi he remembered.

"Are you looking for Ranma and Akane to help you with… that?" Kasumi asked. "Ranma's off on a training trip, but Akane just left for school."

"No, no!" Ryoga said, laughing nervously. Fumbling at a pocket in his clothes, he produced a white envelope, smudged with a few blotches of grey, which he held forward. "Kasumi, could you give this to me?" Seeing that she looked even more confused now, he continued, "Next time I see you, I mean. I need you to give me this. It's very important."

The brown haired girl took the letter slowly and nodded. "I'll do that next time I see you," she tucked the envelope into a pocket on the apron she was wearing. "Are… you sure you're alright? I can lead you back to the dojo."

He shook his head rapidly. "The dojo… would probably be a bad idea right now," he admitted. "Just make sure I get that letter, thanks. Bye!" Turning on his heel, he ran off and took the first sidestreet he could see.

Kasumi looked after the Hibiki boy for a moment, a frown on her lips. Patting the letter in her apron, she turned back in the direction of the Tendo home. Suddenly the errands she'd come out for didn't seem that important, and she wondered if the place would need repairs again.

HR.

"Halt," Saber barked, the two figures in the middle of the Dojo stepping away from each other, the blonde looking at the redhead, troubled. "That's what you think Shiro's style should look like?"

"Well, with the exception of mirroring one side and doin' it all at once," Ranma said, dropping the crudely modified Bokken she'd been holding next to its twin on the ground. "It's way too risky and aggressive, but with those swords and the way he uses 'em, it's about all that makes sense."

"It's Archer's style," the knight looked even more troubled, now.

"Never really saw him fight," Ranma dismissed. "I mean, yeah, me 'n Ryoga tangled with him and Tohsaka before, but I was a bit too busy with her to watch the fight." Seeing that this had no real effect on the Servant's dark look, the redhead quickly changed the subject. "So, I did my best to show you that, you willing to put up your side of the deal?"

"We've only got half an hour before dinner," she said, making the comment sound extremely important.

"Yeah, well, I only got a couple things to try," Ranma responded. At Saber's nod, she closed her eyes, the glimmer of her magic circuits overtaking her skin. Stretching one hand forward, she concentrated as hard as she could, and pushed.

"It... soaked my face," the Servant reported, flatly.

"Yeah, 's why I figured trying any of this with P-chan would be a bad idea," Ranma muttered. Whichever Kami had thought it'd be a funny cosmic joke to make Ranma's mana 'water elemental,' as Tohsaka had called it, she really wanted to 'talk' to them.

"Okay, let's try... this." She closed her eyes again, her magic circuits blazing brightly this time before she lashed out with her good hand. There was a cracking and shattering sound as her eyes opened, a glimmering object falling away from Saber's upraised arm.

"That... definitely would have done a small amount of damage," the servant reported, "But that much casting time is..."

"Completely useless," Ranma nodded. "Great. It's lookin' like if I'm going to be fighting anyone, it'll be the Assassin guy."

"Three servants should be able to take care of any issues," Saber said, confidently.

"Should," Ranma agreed, "But I don't like not havin' a backup plan." She then sighed, explosively. "Unfortunately, right now that's all I got. Can't really do that sword strengthening trick Shiro's gotten so damned good at, and Tohsaka says that sick bolt thing is a lot more complicated than it looks, and she ain't sharing."

"Most mages are very secretive about their knowledge," Saber explained. "The amount Rin's been willing to share so far is... unusual."

"Think she's got a plan or something?" Ranma raised an eyebrow.

"I trust her as much as I trust you," Saber retorted.

"So she does, probably." Ranma turned. "Gunna see what Shiro's cookin'."

"Wait!"

Ranma turned back, startled at the exclamation. "I... had something to ask you."

"If my pops somehow managed to engage me to some historical ghost," the redhead started, unnerved at the Servant's sudden change in behavior.

"No, that isn't it," She glared. "It's about your curse."

"Oh, great." Ranma said, unenthusiastically. "What is it?"

"You were a man when we first met, and said that was your original form," Saber started. "Then you changed into your current one, and while I would hardly call you ladylike, you seem... comfortable, not at all anxious about it."

"Oh, thought it was gonna be one of those embarrassing questions I've gotta slug Hiroshi and Daisuke over," Ranma smiled. "I've had the curse for a couple years, gotten used to it. As for bein' comfortable... I really don't like bein' a girl full time, and if the curse was locked or somethin' I'd be crawling up the walls tryin' to fix it, but as it is, I hurt my shoulder. I know how long that'll take to heal, and I can change back when it's done, so it's not a big problem."

"I... see," Saber said, looking somehow disappointed.

"There a reason you're asking?"

N-no, there's no reason," the blonde said, hurriedly. "We should go see what Shiro's making." Turning, she walked out past the martial artist.

"...okay," Ranma said, slowly, before following.

HR.

"So where the heck were you today, P-chan?" Ranma asked, as she, Ryoga, the other two masters and their Servants gathered at the Emiya residence front gate, the last rays of the setting sun disappearing and the street lights flickering on.

The lost one didn't respond, but did smile slightly.

"P-chan?" The one who'd asked this was Archer, who had one eyebrow raised. "That's certainly… an unusual name."

"Never mind that," Ryoga snapped, rapidly changing the subject. "So what are we doing out here?"

"Sabotaging Caster," Rin answered. At the Assassin's puzzled look, she explained, "Before I got caught up with these two," gesturing dismissively at Ranma and Shiro, "Archer and I were tracking a series of carefully concealed energy syphoning spells through the city."

"Like the one at the school?" Shiro asked.

"Not… quite," Rin answered as she started walking down the street, Archer following behind, eventually joined by the others. "These were meant to be a bit less obvious, but I don't think she knew how much she could take from people without causing permanent damage. The only reason I noticed was because she was driving people into Comas."

"And now that you believe she can't move as freely, you want to destroy the rest of them," Saber guessed.

"Right," Rin nodded, as the group continued down the slowly curving road. "So keep an eye out, if we can take out enough of these, we'll have a much better chance of winning an assault on the temple."

"Makes sense, I guess," Ranma admitted, reluctantly.

"And you've got a better plan?" The mage snapped, taking exception to the redhead's uncertain tone.

"Nah," Ranma waved it off. "Just not a huge fan of this whole drawin' power out of a bunch of innocent people for a magical pissing contest thing,"

"Well, neither am I," Rin shot back, "but it's how a lot of mages operate. It's a miracle you've been wandering around with active magic circuits and a curse like that and haven't run afoul of something like this before now."

"I'm a bit more of a fan of just bein' straightforward and punchin' people in the face," Ranma argued.

"Yeah, sure," Ryoga was speaking before he could stop himself. "That would be why you tried to seduce special techniques out of me before."

"Hey, you weren't some random guy who had nothin' to do with it!" Ranma objected hotly, not noticing the strange look the Tohsaka girl and her Servant exchanged.

"Hey…" Shiro interrupted. "Does anyone else smell that?"

"Smell what?" Rin asked, but Shiro was already moving, taking off into the woods to the side of the road. Saber grunted quietly and followed.

The group broke out of the treeline closer to the center of old Fuyuki and Ranma shook her head. "Y'know, I think I know what Shiro's talkin' about," She said, speeding up to match Saber and her master's pace as they entered the parking lot for a small outdoor mall.

As Shiro slid to a stop in the middle of the lot, looking around in confusion, the rest of the group caught up to him. "A lot of people would be passing through here during the day," Archer offered.

Rin nodded, closing her eyes and concentrating. She eventually stepped over to a manhole cover nearby and stretched out a hand, a glowing red design springing into existence on the metallic surface. "When I start disassembling this thing, it's going to set off defenses."

"What kind of defenses?" Shiro asked, glancing around nervously.

"The last few times it was a horde of skeletal familiars, like the ones that attacked us at the school," the dark haired mage answered.

In response to her words, the three Servants spread out around their masters, falling into battle positions. Just as she was about to start her spell, Ranma spoke up. "Nah, wait a sec."

Rin looked up, glaring at the short redhead. "What?"

"I've fought those skeletons before," Ranma explained. "They're probably the weakest thing we're gonna have to deal with. How I see it, this is the best training we can get. Have the Servants watch out for anything big, and we handle these things."

"Of course," Ryoga muttered sourly.

"It… is a point," Archer admitted, his arms crossed.

"I'm not sure we should have our masters fighting in real battle anymore than necessary," Saber objected. "That is our job, after all."

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," Shiro said, drawing the pair of roughly modified practice blades he'd been carrying, soft blue lines tracing their length for a moment.

Reluctantly, Saber stepped away from the manhole, followed by the other two Servants. Assassin just looked a little bored, though Archer was studying the group curiously. A moment later, Rin touched the spell woven onto the manhole cover, channeling her magic to disrupt it, and the expected defenses tripped. A light fog seemed to surround the area, over a dozen shadowed, skeletal figures looming out of it.

Ranma grinned, clenching her free fist as her own magic circuits rose to life.

"It's going to take me a bit to finish this," Rin called."

"Don't worry, we've got you," Shiro said, taking up a stance with his blades. The world almost seemed to slow as the first of the headless creatures lunged out of the fog towards him. He easily deflected its dulled, rusty blade, smashing it with his own offhand weapon and stepping past it. This situation wasn't like the desperate fight with Lancer before he'd first summoned Saber, or even his spars with her.

These creatures he could actually read, their movements ridiculously awkward compared to the poetry in motion that was a Servant's attacks. He slid under the next one to charge him, one blade sliding between its ribs, its reinforced edge slicing the spinal column in half.

The next he went at with a hard overhead swing, but it managed to bring its much heavier blade up. Shiro's blow snapped the fragile metal, but it was slowed dramatically, and skittered off of the skeletal monster's shoulder. He drove his other blade into the thing's leg, knocking it down and away, but was now badly off balance.

The fourth creature loomed with its blade already raised, its non existent eyes having no trouble seeing through the fog that restricted his vision to only a couple of meters. He desperately tried to bring his weapons back in to block, but the hasty stance crumbled under the force of his opponent's blow, one of his swords flying off into the fog.

He managed to shove his opponent backwards with all of his strength, but he stumbled back as well, landing painfully on his tailbone. Scrambling back to his feet, he saw a flash of blue light cut through the fog, a stocking-clad leg shattering the skeleton's collarbones and rib cage into dust.

"You've got me, huh?" Rin asked, her look dripping with scorn.

The red haired boy winced, making it the rest of the way to his feet and stretching out his empty hand. An exertion of will and magic left a familiar, comfortable hilt in his hand and he ran past Rin, not really taking notice of her widened eyes as he brought the curved silvery-white blade up against his next opponent.

It only took a minute or so after that for the three masters to clear up what was left of the skeletons, Rin then kneeling to finish dismantling the spell. "Well, that wasn't… horrible," Ranma muttered, flexing her arm and wincing, several bones scattered at her feet dissolving into sparkling blue light.

Shiro winced as well, unsure of that as one of the swords he was carrying vanished in the same way and he knelt down to pick up the now badly cracked wooden blade he'd been using.

"If you're going to fight like that, at least try and look like you know what you're doing." The snapped comment came from Archer, who was standing, a dark look on his face next to the other two servants.

"You saw any of that?" Assassin asked.

The white haired man shrugged. "I've got very good eyes."

"What did you mean by that?" Shiro demanded, but the white haired Servant refused to offer an explanation.

"We should probably try and find another one," he offered instead.

The red haired boy growled in frustration under his breath.

HR. - 02/09.

"Tea, now..."

"Well, you're cheerful this morning!" Taiga Fujimura's voice was like nails on a chalkboard as Rin staggered into the Emiya residence's main room, slumping down at the low table. "What happened, study too long last night, or are you guys getting up to something else?"

Rin didn't dignify this with a response, grabbing the kettle from the middle of the table and pouring a glass, gulping it down as quickly as she could.

"It wasn't actually something else, was it?!" The older woman demanded, her hands slamming down on the table as she leaned into the twin-ponytailed girl's personal space.

"Nothing like that," Rin waved the older woman off. ("Damned redhead.") She projected it to Archer, because she needed to complain about it to somebody.

("I agree, but I assume we're talking about different people,") The servant returned.

("She just… doesn't get tired,") the black haired girl complained. ("Are you absolutely sure she's human?") They had continued on to dismantle five more of Caster's spells the previous night. Though after a while Shiro had started to look a little worn down, the pigtailed girl had been as energetic when they'd returned at three in the morning as she'd been when they left.

("Hmm…. most likely, but possibly not.") Damn his deadpan delivery, she wasn't sure if he was joking or not. She was answered when he continued. ("You know she and Emiya likely would've stopped if you'd asked.")

("Wasn't going to happen,") Rin shot back. Ms. Fujimura had said something, but she'd missed it. "Hmm?" She asked.

"Wow, you really are tired," the older woman noted. "I wonder if it's some side-effects from that incident a few days ago?" As Shiro entered the room with a large platter of steamed rice and vegetables, she continued. "I don't think that could be it, though, even the most badly affected are recovering, they should be back in school next week."

"Well that's good," Shiro said, sitting down at the table. He looked wide awake, too. At least the redhead wasn't around, probably sleeping in after- Rin's train of thought was interrupted as the sliding door to the front hall slid open, Ranma and Saber walking through it, talking quietly.

Rin just let her head slam down on the table. ("At least it's a half day,") Archer offered.

HR.

Ranma rubbed her eyes and squinted back down at the book in her hand. She'd spent a good amount of the day continuing to try and get a handle on her new abilities, but had ended up having to give that up when it'd started snowing earlier in the afternoon. Ending up in the house, as Saber was using the Dojo, she'd reluctantly dug the school assignments her mother had insisted she bring on her training trip out, having no legitimate reason to ignore them.

She snorted. She was participating in a tournament with the spirits of heroes of legend, and still didn't have an excuse to ignore homework. Sometimes she missed the days when she and her father wandered the wilderness, at least until she thought about what the food had been like when the only places to get a meal he didn't have to kill or steal himself were buddhist monasteries and shinto shrines. As if in answer to that thought, something round and orange was shoved into her field of view.

"Want one?" Ms. Fujimura asked, brightly.

The redhead nodded and plucked the orange out of the older woman's hand. They hadn't really interacted much since the first morning they'd met, Ranma spending a lot of time out in the yard, Dojo or her tent, while the orange haired teacher preferred spending her time indoors teasing Shiro.

"I was worried you weren't studying while you were traveling," the teacher said, gesturing at the textbook Ranma had put down to take the orange.

"Mom'd kill me if I didn't do some," The martial artist answered, before biting into the fruit.

"As she should," the older woman said, wagging her finger in an exaggerated fashion before grabbing the box she'd taken Ranma's orange out of. "I'm going to see if Saber or Shiro want any."

"...right," Ranma said, quietly, as the older woman left the kitchen for the living room. She seemed really excitable and full of energy. A point proven when she heard raised voices from the other room, one being a flustered Shiro. A moment later two sliding doors were heard opening and closing. The pigtailed martial artist finished her orange, disposing of the peal and picking up her book.

"Nope, still don't get it," she muttered after a few minutes more of reading. Springing to her feet, she headed for the door. Just one lap around the compound, and she'd get right back to it… probably.

As she rounded the side of the house, however, she was caught off guard by a yell. "-just caring for others and not caring for yourself at all!"

Rin was standing on the walkway, glaring down and pointing at a thoroughly baffled looking Shiro who was sitting and looking up at her.

"Um, Tohsaka, your finger…" The red haired boy said, nervously, shuffling back slightly from where she was poking him in the nose with her nail.

"Shut up! Don't talk back to me!" The black haired girl yelled, obviously furious. Ranma tried to get while the getting was good, stepping slowly backwards, but the flooring below her gave a traitorous creak which the angry mage heard.

Tohsaka whirled, spotting her, and her eyes widened for a moment, before narrowing speculatively. "Hey, are you having fun?"

"Am I… what?" Ranma asked, blinking.

"You're obsessed with martial arts," Tohsaka explained. "Do you find it fun?"

"Uh… yes?" Ranma asked, uncertainly.

"And if it weren't fun, would you keep doing it? If you hated doing it, or just didn't care?" This time she looked back at Shiro.

"...yes," Ranma replied.

"See what I-" the black haired girl stopped in her tracks, whirling back to the martial artist. "What?"

"I… said I'd keep practicing the art even if I hated it," Ranma answered, and then tilted her head. "What's this about, anyways?"

"Why?" Rin demanded, angrily. "If it made you miserable, if you got no joy at all out of it, why would you want to keep doing it?"

Several answers leapt to mind. To preserve the heritage, to defend the weak, to keep fit, but none of them really seemed to be the right answer, and the way Tohsaka was acting, it seemed very important to give the right one. "...because it's important, I guess."

"But why is it important?" The mage kept pushing.

"It's important because…" Ranma started, and then blinked. The scent of rot. Acidic odors that made his nose burn. A dull throbbing all over his body… She shook her head. "It just is," She exploded, frustrated. Rin was now looking at her oddly, and so was Shiro.

Looking down, she shifted uncomfortably, changing the subject. "I didn't always find the art fun," she offered. "It was just that I had ta do it, and always bein' sad or angry about how hard stuff was or gettin' hurt didn't really do anything. There was no point making myself miserable, right?"

"That's…. Something," Rin started, uncertainly.

"You gonna tell me what's goin' on over here?" Ranma asked, looking between the two curiously.

"It's… nothing," Tohsaka shook her head. "Sorry for bugging you."

"No problem," Ranma said, turning to go back into the house.

"That… wasn't good, was it?" Shiro said, looking after the departing girl worriedly.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Tohsaka whirled on him. "What, you notice that, but have no idea why any of the stuff you said to me before was wrong?"

"No?" The red haired boy answered, tilting his head.

Rin huffed, then crossed her arms. She stayed silent for a moment, and Shiro was quietly weighing the probable result of speaking up, remaining silent or just leaving, when she abruptly uncrossed her arms. "All right, I've decided!" She announced, pointing at him again, but this time from slightly farther away. "I may not be able to do anything about… that," She gestured in at the house, "but I'll make you admit defeat tomorrow!" With that, she turned on her heel and trotted back inside.

Shiro looked after her for a long moment, before shrugging and turning towards his shed. He wasn't sure what that meant, and really hoped it didn't mean she was planning to start attacking him the next morning, but he supposed he'd just have to deal with whatever it was when it came up.

HR.

Ranma tensed as the sound of quick footsteps, and then rustling fabric came to her. She wasn't too surprised when the entrance to her tent was abruptly thrown open, but had to blink at who was there. "Tohsaka?" She asked, sleepily, peering out from her sleeping bag.

"I need to talk to you." The dark haired girl seemed much less angry now, though there was a determined gleam in her eye.

"About what?" Ranma asked, sitting up.

"It's…" the other girl seemed to hesitate, as if she weren't sure how to explain herself. Making up her mind, she continued, "Something's wrong with Shiro, and I'm trying to do something about it."

"What, is he hurt or somethin'?" the pigtailed martial artist asked.

"No, it's nothing physical," Rin waved that possibility off. "It's in how he thinks. It's like…. His goal is the only thing that's important. He's all about helping everyone else, but doesn't think about himself, to him magic is a thing he has to do even if it's painful and he doesn't enjoy it, and all that doesn't matter!"

Half way through her explanation, it'd become a bit of a rant. Ranma winced. "I… don't see the problem with him wantin' to help people," she admitted slowly. "If it's what he has to do, then-"

"At least you understand that it's important to enjoy what you're doing!" Rin cut her off, angrily. "I may not like what you said either, but I can understand it, sort of. This…" She shook her head.

"So you think I've got this 'problem' too," Ranma guessed, her eyes narrowed.

"Not… exactly," Rin disagreed. "I just…" She huffed in frustration. "I thought maybe you thought enough like him that you could help me figure out what to do tomorrow."

"So… you're trying to get him to stop practicing magic?" Ranma asked, confused. "Ain't that a really bad idea in the middle of this war?"

"No, if he wants to practice magic that's fine," Rin disagreed. "But he should do it because he wants to, not because he has to!"

"Well," Ranma started slowly, moving deeper into the tent and gesturing for Rin to stop leaning through the door and take a seat, "If you're right about him thinkin' like me, I dunno if now's the best time to try this."

"What? Why?" The twin-ponytailed girl demanded.

"Tohsaka," Ranma started. "He's been practicin' to use his magic for ten years straight. I mean, that's the first difference between him and me, I wouldn't have kept bashing my head against the same thing for a decade. I'd have accepted that I sucked at using magic properly and tried to find a workaround way before that point." She gestured with one hand. "Those runes, or evocations, or… whatever that other stuff you mentioned was all about."

Rin nodded slowly. "I still don't see what me trying to do it now has to do with that."

"Well," Ranma said, eyes closing slightly in concentration. "Y'know that feeling when you've been workin' on something for a few hours, and it hasn't been working? You're gettin' frustrated, and suddenly something clicks, you figure out what you're doin' wrong, and you're done in a couple minutes?" As Rin nodded again, Ranma continued, "Shiro's been workin' on this for a decade, and three days ago, you showed him what he was doin' wrong. He's made more progress since you showed up than he had for that whole time before."

The redhead's eyes closed the rest of the way, a smile spreading across her face. "For me, I've only felt like that after workin' on a new technique for a few weeks. I… honestly can't imagine what it'd be like after so long trying. Right now, if he thinks like me, he's more confident and excited about the possibilities than he's ever been before. He's got hundreds of things he's thought of in his downtime that he can actually try now… and you're asking him to stop.

Rin considered for a few moments, and then nodded slowly. "That's actually… fairly plausible," she admitted.

"But you're still gonna do it," Ranma sighed.

The black haired girl nodded, backing out of the tent. "I'm going to educate that idiot if it's the last thing I do!" She proclaimed, the flap falling behind her retreating form.

Ranma looked after her for a long moment, and then sighed, rearranging her sleeping bag. "Better him than me."

END.

Taiga Dojo!

"Rin forced Shiro to do what?"

"Oh, the rock eating? Yeah, that was from the Fate route. Just stuck one on top of a jar of candies and asked if he wanted one."

"That... that... that... Why didn't I know about that?"

"Well, you weren't around yet in that route, that's all."

"And she's the love interest for the UBW route? That settles it! I really have to get my own route someday soon!"

"Eheheheh... sure thing..."

Illya's sprite fades from the screen.

"Ahem... While she's off chasing the dream, I guess I should say thanks for reading so far, and please R&R! Maybe it'll motivate our new lazy author... but probably not.


End file.
